Book 8: Chapter 23

Book 8: Chapter 23

(The author is taking their monthly break! The Wandering Inn will be back on the 29th! The 1st of June for Public readers!)

Ever since Erin had died, every day was like the last. Not the last as in the same as every day, but like the last days ever. The days after the biggest storm you could imagine. The day after Ryoka Griffin had run away from the Goblin Lord and the Stone Spears Tribe had died, even if some survived.

Like that. It made Mrsha realize that time was a strange thing. Little things were important. Time with people mattered. Things? Things came and went.

The Gnoll girl had always sort of felt that the world would keep on going, things would stay the same. Like that strange ticking thing Kevin had just made.

He called it a metronome. It went back and forth, this little wand-like hand. Tick, toc, tick, tocMrshas head followed it left and right.

She had thought the entire world in the Stone Spears tribe would last forever. She knew people diedbut the idea that everything could disappear in a single night?

The world was fragile. People were too fragile. Sotime mattered. Mrsha wished shed spent more time with Erin. Maybe asking her questions. She realized it nownow that her time was out.

She wanted it back. Mrsha thought that this revelation about time changed a lot. Why did she waste it on silly things, like getting angry when Ekirra kept telling her how much better at football he was, and proceeded to beat both her and Visma two-on-one?

Mrsha still wanted to beat him up and toss his ball down the well, but she felt it was a waste of time. She was learningshe needed to do things that mattered, just in case she couldnt. In case she died tomorrow.

It was something the Antinium knew. Mrsha realized that was why they acted like they did. Pawn, Bird, Belgrade, and the rest.

Even Mrsha didnt run around happily every time she ate eggs. But Bird ate like each one was the first and last meal hed have. He hadnt forgotten that once, not too long ago, a certain Worker had never been able to eat such food, and have such delights.

Bird was smart. Mrsha was getting smarter. She thought Bird had it worked out; how to live. Other people like Selys and Olesm and Lyonette worried all the time. Sometimes about important things, but each day, even if they were bad ones, Bird always found something happy. Wellsince he had stopped staying in his rooms.

Mrsha the Hugely Introspective sighed as she watched the metronome. She knew that spending fifteen minutes staring at it was probably a waste of time, but she couldnt look away.

Tick, toc, tick, toc.

I dont get it. Its annoying the hair off me. I want to break it. How does Mrsha stand it? And whats the point?

I told you, its Kevins prototype. Dont break it; he worked really hard on it. Its for keeping the beat. Its a prototype for a clock.

Two voices were speaking just behind Mrsha. The firsts was surly.

Hmph. For singing? Youre telling me youre fine with that sound?

A sigh, and then Imani patted Palt on the arm.

Cant you cast a [Silence] spell or something to block out the sound? I thought thats the entire point of being an [Illusionist].

Well, I

Palt stopped. Mrsha turned her head and saw the Centaur, unable to come up with a smart response, click his fingers. The sound and image of the metronome apparently vanished, because he said nothing else. Imani smiled.

Anddoes that look good? I cant tell.

She pushed over some fabric and a piece of paper. Palt glanced at it.

Ooh! Very nice! If I were you, though, Id add a symbol on the apron. Right there.

Which one?

Mm. Liscors crest? Something stylish. Just so they recognize its you. I have my own logo on my goods. Havent you seen them?

Imani frowned. Palt handed her a cigar with a wounded look. At this point, Mrsha left the metronome instead of winding it back up. She padded over and saw Imani and Palt sitting together, next to the fire.

It was raining. So, Mrsha had learned their planned outing was cancelled. Undeterred, the two had another stupid couple-thing: designing an outfit for Imani and Palt to wear as cooking-instructors.

Both of them liked designing ideas and Palt had found some fabric for reference. They werent going for the monochrome white [Chef]s outfit with the poofy hat from Erins stereotypes. Imani wanted something where you didnt sweat to death in a hot kitchen. Stylish, even.

Palt was showing Imani a copy of the cigar he was smoking; it had a miniature, very stylized horse with a wizards hat and wand in the background in a tiny circle.

See? Its a stampwell, I can do a magical tracing. Something like that.

You made it yourself? Youre so good with designs!

Why, thank you. I had it commissioned.

Palt looked pleased. He put an arm around Imanis shoulders and they hugged, both smiling happily. The two paused as Mrsha loudly gagged and made a throwing-up sound.

Mrsha, dont you approve of our love? I expected this kind of thing from Lisms andLisms, but from you?

Palt looked wounded. He put a hand over his heart. Mrsha, outraged at being compared to Lism, shook her head violently and began to scribble. Imani began to giggle as Mrsha shoved a notecard towards them. She bent over and read out loud.

To Palt: Wherefore, and due to my good grace and manners, I will not reply in kind for your dastardly insult in comparing me to that Drake, I still insist you withdraw your scurrilous comment orpfft

She and Palt began laughing so hard they collapsed against each other and Imani nearly fell out of her chair; Palt was just sitting on the ground at the lowered table.

Outraged that her literary acumen was being used as entertainment, Mrsha pounded a fist on the table. She looked at the guffawing two, and decided shed had enough of them. Mrsha the Serious snatched Palts cigar and leapt onto the floor of the inn and began huffing her way towards the closest wall.

Hey! Mrsha, what are you doing? Thats not for children! Palt, stop her with magic.

Alarmed, Imani stared at Mrsha, stuffing the cigar into her personal bag of holding. Palt was still chuckling. He glanced at Mrsha.

I wouldnt worry.

Palt.

A warning tone entered Imanis voice and the Centaur sat up straight. He clarified, hurriedly.

Im sure Mrsha doesnt actually use them. I think she trades them. Dont give me that look, Imani. Whats the harm in letting a kid do some good, old-fashioned bartering? I did it when I was her age

Mrsha walked into the Garden of Sanctuary. Sure enough, Palt was right. He was rich enough that he let Mrsha walk off with a cigar now and thenespecially for services rendered.

That used to be Mrsha helping smooth things over if he annoyed Erin. Or nudging Lyonette to help him, or distracting her. Orone timepersuading Nalthaliarstrelous to sell Palt some of the plants in his garden.

Anyways, the point was that when she got her paws on one, a Palt-cigar was worth some serious Mrsha-money.

Not actual gold; Mrsha had little use for actual gold since even the most accepting [Shopkeepers] still asked too many questions if Mrsha wandered up to the counter and tried to pay with five gold coins for a hundred cookies. Shed gotten in real trouble the one time she tried to stand on Vismas shoulders in a big coat and theyd thought she was a [Thief]

If she wanted something, Lyonette was the intermediaryor Selys. In fact, mostly Selys because Selys would buy you something if you presented her with an eloquent argument. Like bursting into tears and then hugging her after she caved.

No, Mrsha-money was the real deal. The uncut, straight, drug-equivalent for children.

Mrsha sidled into the [Garden of Sanctuary], looking for a mark. She could usually find one in here, or the city. Her usual fence was buzzing around as usual, but seemed to smell Mrsha had something good today.

Apista the Ashfire Bee made an Apista-line towards Mrsha, eagerly buzzing around her. Mrsha held up a pawthen put it palm-up and made a beckoning motion.

Hold up. What do you have for me?

The bee dithered. Mrsha produced the cigar and Apista buzzed around it, trying to grab it and fly off with it. Mrsha swatted at her gently. She knew Apista would just set it on fire and spend the rest of the day clinging to the ceiling and fanning her wings if she handed it off. She wanted to see what Apista had to offer first.

Apista was a good fence. She had a wide selection of Mrsha-goods, but her availability was the issue. You could trade a third of a cigar for a cookie, filched from the kitchen. Or other snacks! Mrsha had even gotten Apista to secure one of The Wandering Inns small cakes for sale one time. It had fallen off the table and Erin was none the wiser.

However, it seemed her new job working as bodyguard and taxi for Niers meant Apista was broke today, and Mrsha didnt offer credit. She stowed her cigar as Apista buzzed around unhappily.

Mrsha the Drug Dealer sauntered onwards. Was this how she wanted to spend her life? Slinging contraband around? Wellit was sort of fun. She went back and gave Apista a big huggentle, but big. Apista fanned her wings and her proboscis tickled Mrshas arm. Mrsha patted her on the headbut didnt give her the cigar. Love was love.

Business was business. Well, if Mrsha didnt have luck on her first client, her second might be moreinteresting.

The white Gnoll glanced around, and then shuffled over to one of the people in the Garden of Sanctuary. She shuffled for fifteen feetthen gave up and walked all the way to the jungle-biome. She padded up to a tree, climbed the ladder shed dragged over, and once she was up high enough, knocked on the little hollow in the tree.

What is it?

The Titan of Baleros had been working on something with paper and ink of his own. He blinked as Mrsha offered the cigar. Niers frowned as he stared at Mrshas haul.

What is that? One of that Centaurs cigars? That damn thing is as big as I am. Is it a gift? Hey!

The hey was because Mrsha jerked it back. She waved the product at Niers meaningfully and went to write down an explanation.

Niers Astoragon saw Mrsha, clinging to the wide branch he was on, fumble for her notepad and quill while her good paw held the cigar. Which lefthow many paws to hold onto the branch?

Whump. He winced at the sound and peered over the edge. A minute later, Mrsha sniffed as she climbed back up and held out the card, glaring at him and defying him to comment on the tears in the corners of her eyes. She hadnt cried!

Whats this? Ill give you the cigar for goods and services in kind? Who taught you to write like that?

Niers eyed Mrsha, somewhat disturbed. The Gnoll tapped the card. He shrugged.

I could offer you credit once I get back to my company, but Ive got nothing. What?

He stared as she pointed.

No, Im not trading you my sword for it. Not even loaning it! How much of an addict do you think I am, anyways? You gave me a bit of that Centaurs stuff. Its strong and I could smoke one cigar over a month! Two months!

Mrsha sighed, glared, but descended the ladder. The problem with small clients was that they had limited demands.

Back to the search for a profitable buyer. Mrsha the Palt realized there were some other prospective people in the garden today. She headed out of the jungle, picking burrs off her fur with annoyance, and saw them on the hill.

Ulvama, Rags, Numbtongue, and Calescent were in deep discussion. Well, Rags and Ulvama were. Calescent was more quiet, and Numbtongue wasgloomy. Their conversation was quiet, but audible to anyone in the garden with Gnoll-hearing.

We are safe. For now. Adventurers know where we are. So? The High Passes arehigh. Teams are not as dangerous as armies. Until we give them a reason, they will not come.

Rags was speaking, holding a council with the two foreign Goblins. Ulvama glanced at Numbtongue. He didnt reply at first. His head was bowed; he looked comatose. She sneered at Rags.

So? They will come. They always will.

Rags met the [Shaman]s gaze.

I know. When they do, I will be ready. I told you: right now, two things I care about. Finding a way to help Erin, if Goblins can. And finding the answer of this.

She held up the thing around her neck. A key on a chain. A simple, ordinary key that was not magical to Ulvamas gaze. Nevertheless, all four Goblins looked at it. Ulvamas gaze was greedyand nervous.

What do you think?

Rags turned to Numbtongue. When the Goblins head rose, it was his voice that replied, but changed subtly. Pyrite spoke.

Good plans. Big plans. Like clouds.

He gestured up at the sky overhead, visible through the gardens circular opening. Pyrite went on, and even Ulvama listened quietly.

Clouds are hard to see. Does Chieftain have plans like rocks? What happens tomorrow? What happens now?

The Flooded Waters Chieftain nodded slowly, appreciating Pyrites response. She spoke, slowly.

I have seen thisadventurer raid fail. Maybe the Horns are alive. Maybe not. We cannot help them. Maybe the other teams will trade that helmet for a cure. Maybe not. After listening, I have a plan. It is dangerous. It may endanger the entire tribe, but if I think it will help

She fell silent, the troubled look on her face turning toirritation. She glanced sideways, and all four Goblins turned.

The little Gnoll girl nudging Ulvama and proffering the cigar froze. She raised her paws, backing up. She wasnt trying to interrupt! Just strike a good deal!

Ulvama eyed Mrsha with resignation. Rags glowered. Calescent sniffed interestedly. Mrsha saw good business opportunities here. Goblins always had great merchandise.

The trouble was, Numbtongue was out of the game, being mostly depressed and sitting about. Rags? The Goblin Chieftain was on Mrshas blacklist, but Ulvama was good.

She had good trades, after learning that if she tried to steal Mrshas goods, a certain beaver-gang would pay her a visit in the middle of the night. As in, theyd get into her bed and sit on her. Despite her lack of a job, she did have services to offer.

Mostly, paint. For a cigar or some good snacks, or some intermediary work with Octavia, Selys, and so on, shed draw on Mrshas fur with her odd-smelling paints and enchant the Gnoll for a while.

That was quality Mrsha-goods. Mrsha had become Mrsha the Speedy for a dayand then shed gotten Ulvama to offer a bulk-discount and she, Ekirra, and Visma had all been the Chameleon Trio in a game of hide-and-seek in the park. Their opponents and detractors had claimed magic was cheating; Mrsha thought they just didnt know how to leverage connections.

However, it seemed Ulvama didnt have time for Mrsha because she chased her off, swatting with her staff.

What about Pebblesnatch? Go to the Unseen Empire. Get more Goblins. A small tribe!

So you say again and again. I have been there. Goblins should not dieneedlessly.

Rags folded her arms, beyond reluctant to contemplate fighting that [Emperor] once more, or even risking it.

The debate continued as Mrsha the Hustler groaned internally. Was she going to have to parlay with Kevin or Joseph, or hold onto the goods until she could visit the city? It was a hot item.

As in, if Imani told Ishkr, he might confiscate the cigar. Or she might take it out of concern for Mrshas well-being. The law was just an excuse for petty thievery. Mrshas eyes narrowed as she thought about how much shed lost to authority over theweeks.

Lets see. Mrsha ran down her client list as she sat, ignoring Rags kicking her towards the edge of the hill.

Kevin would trade you snacks and other nice things, but he had his own supply. Joseph? Not as interested in that as a drink, and Mrsha didnt want to push his habit. She was a conscientious supplier. A real shame, because a Joseph-autograph was a good commodity these days.

Temile. Ah, if Temile were here, Mrsha could have gotten something nice. Like an [Actor]s hat or prop-dagger for a day. A real shame. Grev could actually parlay the cigar into gold or other things too, and he had his own autograph collection for trades.

No, no. Who else? Well, among the buyers out thereHexel and Elirr were one of the city-picks since Krshia was gone. Not that they had much that Mrsha wanted; they were too responsible. The rest of her clients werent into this particular good. Montressa and Bezale could get it direct, Ekirra and Visma werent in the market, and so on.

Could she give the cigar to the Antinium? Mrsha felt bad doing that though, because they didnt have much to sell, and trading a cigar for something that was probably their only possession in life feltuhbad.

The only Antinium that Mrsha could realistically trade with were Belgrade for straight up money, Bird for feathers, bird-meat, often rotten, or with Garry. Garry was good. He offered straight, solid desserts and didnt ask many questions.

The problem was, you had a 50% chance a Garry-treat had bugs in it and Mrsha didnt like those odds.

The last group Mrsha could fence the cigar to were the Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings. There were always three or four in the hallway, and they were nice. ButMrsha thought of the encounter on the street.

She wasnt sure if she was ready for the big leagues. Fencing to Crimshaw was a last-ditch resort.

Mrsha was just considering going back and exchanging her cigar with Palt for a more acceptable, longer-term commodity with less value but more keepability like some Nali-sticks. She had been known to eat her supply and it was nice to have an easily-cashable item like that lying around.

That was when a new client entered the scene. Calescent tapped Mrsha on the shoulder as she was about to roll down the hill.

Mm. Trade?

The [Chef] from the underground caught Mrshas eye as she sat up. He reached into a pouch and produced a small bag. Mrsha sniffed it, sneezed hard, and sniffed again.

Oh wow. Shed hit the goldmine! Or ratherspice mines! Calescent was offering her pure, high-quality spices for the cigar.

And that wasnt a euphemism! Mrsha didnt have to think. She held out the cigar, took the small pouch, and shook hands with the Goblin. He nodded to her. Mrsha handed him a card. Then she turned.

All four Goblins, even Numbtongue, leaned over to read the card over Calescents shoulder.

Nice doing business with you. Remember: we never met. I was never here. Burn the card.

Rags looked over. Mrsha nodded to her once, coollythen began somersaulting down the hill and giggling.

-

That was fun. Humble as it may be, Mrsha thought it was a good use of time. If you died tomorrowat least you could say you had fun.

Plus shed gotten ahold of a weapon, trading item, and flavor! All in one! She knew that Calescents spice-blend came in a few types:

Death spice, which had no flavor besides pain. He coated his weapons with that or tossed it into peoples faces in battle.

Flavor spice, for cooking. Hot! But delicious. Imani had actually bought some in bulk.

This stuff nowMrsha peeked into the bag and decided it was a variant on flavor-spice. Calescent had obtained ingredients from Octavia and Imani that a Goblin had trouble finding, and was mixing up a new batch of experimental stuff. He could, of course, conjure some spice each day from one of his Skills, but he still had to experience new spices before he could make it his daily bonus.

Spice was worth a lot more than Dreamleaf to Mrsha. She even knew what she was going to do with it! Mrsha the Spicy narrowed her eyes. Life couldnt all be fun and games. She had enemies. Erin had enemies.

Todaywas a reckoning twice-over. As you ate food and sufferedand when you tried to pass it on the toilet. She smiled evilly to herself. Some Gnollsyes. Some Gnolls just wanted to watch your insides burn.

-

Liscor was quiet. It was raining. The skies opened up, as if weeping for what could be avoided.

If only Gnolls and other species were kinder. Mrsha shook her head and lit a match. She pretended to puff on the wooden straw, then gave up and blew out the fire because it made her cough too much.

Mrsha, whats that about? Is that another story from the inn? A movie? You promised to show me, remember?

Ekirra whined. He was so innocent. So nave. Yet innocence could hurt. Mrsha saw he was still wearing his football jersey. The Little Crabs star striker. He smiled at her, oblivious to the way his comments about Mrsha and Visma being terrible at football could hurt.

You wound me, my friend. I wish I could be the bigger Gnoll. However. You have only yourself to blame.

Mrsha didnt reply to Ekirras questions about the movies on the laptop and other devices. He went back to licking his lips.

Thanks for the new sandwich, Mrsha! Imani made it? It smells good!

He began gobbling it down. Mrsha leaned back against the wall and tugged the hat down over her eyes. She waited.

Itsreally tasty! Sort of hot.

Ekirras voice changed from excited to puzzled. A strangled tone entered his voice.

Its really spicy. Mrsha, do you have any water? Its hot! Its so hoth! Wather! Ow! Ow

She saw him bolt around, rolling on the ground, pawing at his mouth. Mrsha tilted her head up and stared at the sky as Ekirra howled.

To all those who have hurt me, Im sorry. For what Im going to do to you.

That had been just a pinch of Calescents new blend. Visma glanced up from where she was making sandcastles as Ekirra ran, crying, to his big sister to beg for water. Poor fool. Water just made it worse.

The Drake girl gave Mrsha a slow nod. Mrsha nodded back. She walked back in the rain, feeling neither proud nor sad. It had to be done. She greeted her bodyguards as they waited for her in the rain.

Palt and Imani stared at Mrsha. Palts mouth was hanging open. Imani closed hers.

Alright. Thats enough movies for you.

What? No! Mrshas face fell and she waved her arms frantically. Imani just shook her head. Palt leaned over.

Was she copying another of those movies?

Scene-for-scene. I am going to kill Joseph and Kevin. That ones about crime.

Ooh. Why dont we watch it later without kids?

Stop it, you. Maybe tonight. Let me see if anyone has it. Whos cooking?

Mrsha stomped past the flirting couple, whod taken her into the city at her request for this mission of not-mercy. She glanced past her two principal bodyguards for the second pair lurking in the street.

Credit where credit was due, Crimshaw and the other Brother of Serendipitous Meetings looked rather disturbed by Mrshas reenactment of a scene they probably knew fairly well. She nodded at them and they stared at her as she walked past them. One of them turned to the other.

Crimshaw, it occurs to me in this moment that we might be a bad influence on the kids, as it were.

Crimshaw nodded, eying Mrsha. She was already thinking of her next target. Ekirra would live. Shed taken it easy on him; it was just a lesson in manners.

Her real enemies were in this very city. Polluting the air with their breath. They were an infestation, with respect to Antinium of course! They had to be dealt with. Stillit was going to take more work than a casual sandwich-hit. She needed a team. Mrsha strode back to the innor would have, but Palt and Imani stopped to admire a rather catchy tune.

Oh, its a song-crystal! Thats fromPalt, thats from you-know-where! Its a good song!

Ill buy it for you if they have any in stock. You know they lose their song after a few months at most, though, right? But for you, I could copy itone moment.

They paused at the booth by the streets. Mrsha saw Palt trot over, buy one from the [Trader] who was selling song-crystals playing, and present it to Imani with a flourish. From the Singer of Terandria herself.

Mrsha had not realized how cutesy the Palt-Imani couple was. She put her paws on her hips. She needed a better, more dedicated crew to the art of vengeance. Even Selys was better than this! And Drassi!

Wellgood for them, Mrsha supposed. They were one of the few couples she knew. Hexel and Elirr, Imani and Palt, Wailant and Viceriaokay, she knew a few.

Jelaqua and Maughin, nowthey were just as bad. The adventurers were returning to Pallass or Liscor, some of them, but they werent here yet. Mrsha shook her head. A shame. Shed have more clients, more agents to work with. Still, she thought she had a decent team so far.

-

You want me to what? Absolutelywait. Say that again? There are Thronebearers of Calanfer in Liscor? DamnI need an encyclopedia or something. All my notes are gone!

Niers Astoragon cursed. He stared at Mrsha, perched on the branch as she scribbled. The Titan of Baleros and Apista both read the card. Niers snorted as Mrsha waited. She had to sell this hit. She had prepared ample recompense and he owed her!

I do not owe you a prank. I owe you a lot more for helping me out, and feeding me, but this isnt one of those things.

The Fraerling countered, having read her card. He eyed the slice of lemon meringue pie that Mrsha had carefully saved from her dessert plate.

And tempting as that is, I dont think angering a bunch of [Knights] is wise. Why are they after your mother? She really is the [Princess] of? Dead gods.

Mrsha stared indignantly at the Titan as he rubbed at his face. Niers glanced up and read her card.

What? No! Of course I didnt believe you! No offense, but when you tell me a [Princess] of Terandria is your mother, and is also in a dedicated relationship with an Antinium, I tend to raise my eyebrows. Let me get this straight. Shes not your mother biologically or theres a huge scandal here and a very odd timeline. She is a [Princess], anddead gods.

Niers Astoragon sorted out Mrshas admittedly somewhat tangled story, and this time had to believe her. There were Thronebearers of Calanfer in the city and while they hadnt tracked Mrsha down to The Wandering Inn, she feared their collective stupidity could only last so long.

Especially with Ser Dalimont on her trail. Why, he might be doing something as reasonable as stopping the others from directly trying to grab a little Gnoll girl in public! Theyd be arrested as [Kidnappers] by the Watch if they tried that. He might be doing something likeasking about Mrsha without causing a scene!

They had to be taken out. Or rather, punished since their quarry wasnt even in the city! Hence, Mrsha pointed out to Niers, her plan.

The Titan just stared at her.

I thought my life was strange.

He muttered and rubbed at the stubble on his face. He sighedthen seemed to take in her first request again. Niers eyed her detailed plan and his lips twitched.

What do you mean, Calescents doom-spice?

Mrsha offered him the pouch. Niers took one taste of a fleck of red and his face turned a matching shade.

Cats and spiders! Thats hot! A Goblin made that? You want to put ithm. Thats just cruel.

Howeverhe was grinning. Mrshas eyes lit up. She hadnt been sure, but as the Titan began to laugh, she realized it was true.

He did enjoy a good prank. Niers took her plan note-card and eyed it.

Its a risk. Especially if they have detection-Skills. Id have to go into the city, and that beewhats your full plan?

Mrsha rubbed her paws together and smiled evilly as Apista settled on her head.

-

So it was that later that day, Mrsha carefully adjusted the hat on her head. She delicately cut into the bloody steak, served rare. High-quality meat.

But bloody, like the blood on my paws. And in their poo if it goes really bad.

Mrsha, why in the name of the Ancestors did you want to eat at this restaurant so badly?

Selys looked miffed. Drassi just nudged her friend. She was still a bit hoarse from her screamed-coverage of the Village of Death raid. The [Reporter] was also getting a lot of attention and theyd been seated at a prominent table.

Heck, Drassis fame was why theyd gotten the restaurant in such short order. It was one of the better ones in the city. Selys was the reason they could afford it.

Dont object, Selys! Im perfectly happy to let Mrsha choose where she wants to eat.

Just because youre not paying for it. Ohfine.

Selys grumbled, but she looked a bit happier than her moping-self ever since shed gotten the [Message] from Ceria. Mrsha nodded. This served multiple purposes! Cheering up the two Drakes, andshe glanced sideways. Palt and Imani were making eyes together at a separate table. Drassi and Selys nudged each other and laughed.

Mrsha had suggested that too. It was a properly lateral Erin-move. A bit of kindness, and a treat for the two.

It helped assuage the pain in her heart, as if small kindness could make up for what she was about to do.

Mrsha the Penitent patted at her mouth with a napkin, although she had yet to actually take a bite. Selys broke off laughing with Drassi.

Ignore her. Shes been like that all day.

Imani stopped talking with Palt long enough to call over. Mrsha ignored all the adults. They were not aware of the situation.

She slunk down in her chair, her hat tugged lower over her features, knowing she was being watched. A group of four [Knights], not in their armor, but still dressed in the same flashy colors and metallic cloth were dining together. She heard their conversation.

just sitting there. If that isnt a sign, Ser Dalimont

do not stand up. If the girl runs, there will be a scene. We are meant to be covert!

The Thronebearers were eating at this fancy restaurant. Little did they knowit would be their last meal. For the day. Maybe for two days if they were really traumatized.

The staff were so enamored of Drassi they didnt even make Mrsha take off the hat and oversized jacket shed been wearing around. The [Reporter] had already signed a few autographs, and the owners themselves had come over to talk to her.

Perfect. All was in order. Mrsha closed her eyes. She had no direct link with her agent, but she knew the plan was underway. She waved for one of the [Servers] as she wrote on a notecard. Drassi and Selys were discussing the location of the Horns, the treasure, before trying to have a meal without talking about it

Unbeknownst to them, her agents were in play. Two of them, moving through the back of the restaurant.

They had investigated the kitchen through the window, and of course, she was working with professionals. Niers Astoragon, the Titan, was no stranger to staying hidden. Of course, the danger was anything that might hurt a Fraerling of his size.

Hence, his backup. Apista the bee, who could deliver him at heights above most dangers. They were her A-team, but the Titan would have never gone for this operation if Mrsha hadnt been able to persuade him of the safety.

How would he get the pouch of spices into the entre of soup for the [Knights]? Let them assume he could pinpoint the bowls for the [Knights]no hard task for a [Strategist] used to keeping track of a battlefield, who could easily manipulate things as wellhow would he deliver it without everyone seeing a tiny man or bee buzzing around a kitchen?

Well. Mrsha had a few options, but since Ulvama didnt know about Niers, one of the easiest waysgetting the [Shaman] to cast a spellwas out. Shed come up with a more convenient solution that Niers had been blown away by.

Something tapped Mrsha on the head and she heard a familiar buzz. So did Selys and Drassi. They looked around.

Does that sound like a bee to you, Drassi? Reminds me of Apista.

Selys frowned. She looked around, but Apista was already flying away.

I heard it too!

Drassis head turned, but the [Reporter] couldnt see Apista, or Niers. They were already returning to the inn.

Invisible. And it didnt even take a full invisibility-potion to do it. For people their size? Only a bit.

Oh my, but where could poor little Mrsha get an invisibility potion without having to buy it? Mrsha rubbed her paws under the table, keeping her face straight. How handy of Octavia to have a few of the latest products, courtesy of Saliss of Lights.

Come to think of it, Saliss would have been all on-board with this plan. Mrsha closed her eyes and thanked her spiritual mentor. Niers had participated, for the rest of the invisibility potion. He saw the utility in it, and Octavias shop.

Mrsha? Mrsha only saw the dead. She looked at the [Knights] as the [Server] hurried over.

Can we get something for Miss Mrsha? Another drink? Is the steak not good enough?

The steak is fine. Please, send this over to that table, directly.

Mrsha held up a notecard. The [Server], bemused, took the object Mrsha handed her. Selys and Drassi frowned and glanced at the table of Humans.

Do they know you, Mrsha? Theyre staring at us.

Maybe theyre fans of yours, Mrsha. What was that?

Mrsha the Studiously Innocent just shrugged, watching as another [Server] came forwards with four bowls of soup. Right on time, she saw her message being delivered as the [Knights] sat with their soup.

That Gnoll asked me to send this to your table, Sirs, Madams. Please, enjoy.

Ser Dalimont blinked. The other Thronebearers stared at Mrsha, then the object the [Server] had taken from her serving tray. It was

A little flower. Not a Faerie Flower; they were dead. This one was white. White as Mrshas fur. The Thronebearers blinked.

What does that mean? Its flower-language, perhaps? Is it some kind of code? It looks vanilla-white to me. Are any of you up-to-date on flower-language in the courts?

One of the Thronebearers of Calanfer picked up the flower. Ser Dalimont and Mrsha gave the man a look of incredulity. The others stared at Mrsha.

We must talk to her. After our meal, Ser Dalimont. But let us not keep food waiting. To glorious Calanfer, and the Dawn Concordat! May it stand against wretched Ailendamus, and we return in glory and success!

The female [Knight] toasted and the others rose, decisively. Some of the other diners looked around, but they drank, sat, and began to sip from the bowls. Mrsha saw the curiously dark liquid pass into their mouths, and then a few more spoonfuls into the hungry [Knight]s mouths before their good-natured comments and expressions turned to puzzlement. Then, to horror.

The white Gnoll closed her eyes and sat back in her chair. She sliced another bit of steak and inserted it into her mouth as the cries of pain began, the uproar, the ill-advised drinking of water. Selys and Drassi started, and some of the other diners got up, looking warily at their soup.

Only Drassi, the former-[Gossip] put it together fast enough. And perhaps Ser Dalimont. However, if he could have spoken past his swollen lips, Mrsha would have been impressed. The power of Calescents new blend was that it didnt burn for a little bit. When it did

Mrsha folded her paws on the table and patted her mouth again. Ah, but it tasted like ashes. Like blood. Can my conscience ever let me enjoy another meal in peace?

She hesitated. No, wait. Mrsha licked her lips. That was really good steak. She began to gobble her food, appetite restored. To the side, the [Knights] collapsed, lips puffed up, eyes streaming with liquid as the staff assured the customers that thisthis was some kind of accident! What was wrong with the soup? One tried a spoonful and fell victim too. Another death on Mrshas conscience.

It had to be done. Somewhere, the Titan of Baleros was laughing. Mrsha did not laugh. She finished her meal and sat there, in silence, contemplating her sins. Perhapsyes, perhaps when no one was looking, when the [Healer] had been summoned, the soup disposed of, and two of the [Knights] actually had to be led out of the restaurant, they were so blindperhaps then she allowed herself a small smile.

One did have to have fun.

Imani and Selys, who had both been watching Mrshas expression, silently looked at each other and agreed Mrsha would never be allowed to watch a movie about crime ever again.

-

When had it been that they realized destiny threw them together? The odd twists of fate that had meant the two would meet, here of all places? So far from home.

Yet from the start, they had too much in common. Such that while it seemed complex, coincidental beyond belief, when you looked back it seemed as if the world had meant for them to be together.

Two star-crossed lovers, united by adversity and their mutual bonds.

Wait. What did lovers do again? Maybe it wasnt lovers. Neither one had the class.

Two star-crossed friends, united by adversity and their mutual bonds.

Were they friends? That was afirst. Yet if this was friendship, it was closer than anything either had known. They might have skipped past friendship towards something else. Not lovers, not friends.

The skeleton held the slime in his arms as they sat together in silence. Silenceyet a communion of similar beings. Neither one with proper voices.

Neither one alone.

When was it that they realized both had been created by Erin Solstice? Toren wondered. Of course, hed technically been assembled by that [Necromancer]. Pisces. The person who had made him, accidentally or not, had been Erin.

Like Healing Slime. Did that make them brothers? Siblings? Toren wasnt sure what he or the slime were.

One was undead, the other was a blob. It didnt matter. They were here, and they stayed together, like the last two [Sailors] in a shipwreck at the edge of the world. Toren had never cared for anything like Healing Slime before. Not a weapon, not a place, not

A person? Maybe. Erin Solstice was too complicated, though. Love and hate intermingled too much. The realization she had never seen him, history

Healing Slime was simpler. The feeling in Torens head was strange. He was a [Carer]but more than that? It was like opening a door. Once the door had been opened, it could never be fully closed. He felt.

Something like the idea of warmth when he held Healing Slime. Something deeper than the fear of death when he thought of the Chosen finding Healing Slime. Toren listened, unsettled of late.

The castle of Azkerash wasoff. Distinctly off. The mindless undead held their positions as always. The semi-conscious ones like Crypt Lords? Well, Azkerash didnt generally animate such undead, considering them somewhat annoying.

Those that were present, by natural animation or leftovers from other projects, were in hiding. Eleven had been destroyed. The Chosen were venting their frustrations on lesser undeadand only the ones who could think, were expendable. It was no fun attacking puppets.

Hence, Toren hiding here, in the closet with Healing Slime. He might have taken his chances to find it foodbut not today. Not this week. The Chosen were beyond agitated. It did not take a genius to figure out why, but Toren had still had to think for a bit.

Emiress! Delighted! You know, we havent seen each other in years. Dont flatter me; I just have good makeup. Id pay for a Potion of Youth if I could afford it

Just a disgrace. Hrr. Yes. Drakes like that were why we fought. I see no mentions of this on Wistram News Network, yes? But then from the [Mages], what else would w

checking in for unusual [Slaves] this week

Azkerash sat in his private chambers, dark eyes flickering as over a dozen voices spilled around him. He was stretching himself to his very limits, even for a mind like his. Holding a conversation with so many puppets, keeping each one animated, lifelike?

He was searching. Searching for the whereabouts of the Horns of Hammerad, as he had done since they had vanished.

Nothat wasnt accurate. Azkerash had already located three. The half-Elf, the Antinium, and the woman with metal arms. Each one he had pinpointed, via listening in on [Message] spells, keeping tabs on the news.

The one he wanted, nay, needed to find was missing. Increasingly, the Necromancer was focusing on Chandrar and his limited networks there. Searching for [Slaves].

He was not the Wistram of today. If he could not locate Pisces Jealnet via his name and Azkerashs scrying spells, then something was blocking the spell. Which meant only one thing.

The worst of all scenarios was that. For more reasons than Pisces safety alone. He could be compelledby the right class and levelto say everything. Thus, the Necromancer searched. Purely out of self-interest.

No. Not even the Chosen believed that. They looked at their master, fearing to disturb him and saw the way he searched. The way he had raged and grown silent. The emotions they had scarcely seen in him, suddenly so common.

Concern for the living. The Chosen, like the children they were, felt the first uncertainty in the truth they held: that they were all that mattered in the world to their master, their parent.

Because they feared, they rampaged. Tearing apart undead, venting their anger in minor ways. Hoping, perhaps

Toren heard the thunderous pounding of a huge shape. The Healing Slime shivered, then both went still as somethingalmost certainly Venitrapounded past.

Where is the skeleton?

She was searching for him. Venitra loved nothing more than to bully Toren, who was the most living thing here, apart from rats or birds or the rare, poor animal that wandered into the enchanted forest.

If she caught him, shed pull his bones off one by one like last time. Or grind them to powder. Toren couldnt regenerate fast anymore. He was worried hed die if too much of him was destroyed. And then what would happen to Healing Slime? Even if it turned into Speed Slime, it would never survive.

Toren had his steel longsword in the broom closet. However, he was well aware that the Level 28 [Skeleton Knight] and Level 13 [Sword Dancer] classes would not avail him against Venitra. She had been created to kill Gold-ranks, and she could do that before activating the enchantments on her body.

She was superior undead. Toren patted Healing Slime and felt worried. He needed to feed it soon, but his [Dangersense (Ward)] told him it was too risky. It had been close, some times. Ijvani had been about to find the slime when Toren distracted her.

In fact, the Skill was buzzing again. Toren hesitated. They had to leave the closet. Venitra wasnt stshe was stupid. However, even an idiot like her realized Toren hid and shed check the closet eventually.

So Toren opened the door and crept out with sword and slime in his ribcage. It peeked out, the glowing body and core swiveling with Torens head for one of the Chosen.

Coast is clear. Go, go, go! Toren sprinted down the hallway. He flattened himself against a wall.

Target secure. Hostiles?

He poked his head around the corner, drew it back. He only needed one look; the undead saw all, heard all.

No Chosen. Move out! He charged down the hallway, ignoring the Bone Crawler on the ceiling; it was just one of the guard-undead. Toren flung open a door and did a flip into the room, landing on his feet

Healing Slime made a warbling sound as it bounced out of his ribcage. Toren turned back and hurried to help it reform and scoop itself up. It smacked one of his hands gently, upbraiding him for doing the flip.

Sorry! Toren patted it on its head. He could tell what Healing Slime was thinking, a bit. So could it. Was it the bond of such created beings such as they? His [Limited Telepathy] Skill from his [Carer] class?

One never knew. Toren looked around. At least that [Witch] wasnt there. He feared the Chosen for their brute maliciousnessBelavierr was different. You could not run or hide from her.

Toren found himself in a dilapidated sitting room, long clogged with dust. He saw old bookshelves, table, couchessome kind of social chamber.

Perfect. Toren just needed a secondary hiding place within this areahe was heading over to the fireplace, hoping there was a working chimney he and Healing Slime could wedge themselves in.

Then something came out from under the door.

The skeleton whirled around. He had wedged a chair under the handle and locked the door! It did little good against this undead.

Nearly flat as paper. Sliding under the crack. Thenunfolding himself, rising.

Devail had no bones. Howeverhe looked like a Drake. He had scales. Skinsinew. No bone, but the way he had been made meant he could still fight like a [Fencer]. Which is what he was.

One of the newer creations of Azkerash turned the empty sockets of the Drake-suit it wore towards Toren. Glowing lights appeared in the sockets, mimicking eyes.

There you are. They are searching for you. Ijvani, Venitra, Kerash, Bea.

Toren froze. Healing Slime quivered as it fled behind him. Toren lifted the sword. Devail studied him

Then sprang forwards, drawing a rapier from his bag of holding. The [Skeleton Knight] slashed in alarm. What was

The tip of the enchanted rapier pierced Torens hand and flicked the sword from his grip in the same motion. Devail flashed sideways, stepping with unnatural grace and speed. He saluted the air, a [Fencer]s motion.

Disarmed.

Torens longsword clattered to the ground. The skeleton raised a hand, fearing the worst, but Devail just held the posturethen put his rapier away.

I have disarmed you.

He informed Toren. The skeletons jaw opened and closed.

No kidding? Devail looked pleased with himself.

I have never failed to disarm a foe other than Azkerash, our master.

Good for you. Toren wanted to roll his eye-flames. Devail was new. He lacked the original Chosens maliciousness. He studied Toren and the Healing Slime, lookingcurious.

What is that?

Healing Slime. Toren pointed. Devail tilted his entire body back and forth as Healing Slime peeked around Torens feet.

Is it alive? Should I kill it? I have been told by myourcreator. Father, that my sword should only be bared for a worthy cause. Even if that is only self-defense. Is this a worthy cause?

He recited the words without understanding. However, there was curiosity there. Toren waved his hands frantically. No, no! Devail looked at him and to Torens reliefnodded.

I will ask for clarification in my next training spar. I shouldnot tell the other Chosen where you are?

Toren nodded. Devail considered this. Then he nodded again.

A worthy cause. By my sword, I swear.

He produced the rapier, saluted Toren, and then slithered under the door. The skeleton stopped shaking in hisbony feet.

What a relief. Devail was one of the three reasonable Chosen. The other being Maviolas undead copy, and Wesixa.

Well, Wesixa creeped Toren out. She had inherited too much of the spider she was made of, and liked to sit in silk-nests in the ceiling and stare down at you and ask why you were running around.

Stupid kids. Azkerash and Belavierr were geniuses of magic and creation. Terrible parents. Even Toren could tell that. He began to unwedge the chair from the door, beckoning to Healing Slime. It was curious why he wanted to leave!

Torens opinion, which he communicated as best he could to Healing Slime, was that Devail was not to be trusted. Even if he swore, he could let it slip. BesidesToren threw open the door.

There are better places to hide. I told you I could hear it, Kerash.

A voice spoke Torens inner-thoughts. He froze and saw two glowing flames in a skull coated with dark, magical iron. Ijvani andthe giant Draugr-type Gnoll

Kerash. They stood together in the doorway.

Toren didnt freeze or start. Those were glandular, living-reactions. In one move he whirled, grabbed up Healing Slime, and charged for the window. He jumped to burst out of it, hoping the fall wouldnt hurt Healing Sl

[Chains of Steel].

Ijvani pointed and long chains of metal shot forwards. They wrapped around Toren and caught him, mid-jump. The skeleton fell, struggling, pointing. Get to the window! Get to

Healing Slime wavered. Its glowing form changed purple, into the Potion of Speed. It rolled towards the window, back to Toren, struggling to get free

Kerash stomped Torens head in. The skeleton went limp and the Gnoll nodded in satisfaction.

It ran from us for three days. Lets break it into pieces. Call Venitra and Bea, Ijvani. What is this?

The Draugrs head swung around. Ijvani glanced at Toren trying to reform its head. She exclaimed.

That is the slime! I thought it was dead! My slime. This lesser undead stole it!

Her head rotated on its neck to glare at Toren.

Not yours. Terrible owner. Leave it alone. The skeleton was repairing himself as fast as possible, but it wasnt the instantaneous process it used to be.

Ijvani listened to Toren, one of the first beings ever to hear him. She heard him out, and then pointed a finger.

[Lava Orb].

She tossed it on Toren, then turned back to Kerash, who was slowly cornering the zippy-slime.

It is mine, Kerash. Do not break it.

You break yours. It is not Oom. It was not created by Master. Therefore, I am bored. Let us see how many times it can divide, like the others.

Hm. That would be fun. Ah. Venitra, Bea. We found the skeleton. And look.

Venitra and Bea appeared in the doorway. They glanced at Toren with malicious satisfactiononly a bit disappointed he was burning, writhing on the floor already dealt withthen looked at the Healing Slime.

It lives. Is that your slime, Ijvani?

Yes. This thing took it.

Ijvani glanced at Toren. All the skeletons nightmares were coming true. Venitra smiled, and it was an ugly expression, as beautiful as Azkerash had made her features.

I want to kill it.

Not you. You do it too fast. Let me touch it, Ijvani.

Bea pleaded. Ijvani shook her head. However, not out of an abundance of love for the adopted slime that was hers.

Both of you kill things too fast. Master is busy. It should take at least an hour.

How? I want to do it, Ijvani.

Kerash argued. The four Chosen moved, cornering the Speed Slime, enjoying how it raced about frantically.

I am going to smash it.

Venitra declared, eying the other Chosen. Instantly, they turned on her, glaring. Venitra, undeterred, strode forwards, raising a fist

Sammials face instantly fell and became hostile and grumpy.

I dont want to. Lessons are boring and my teachers are stupid. Youre way more fun. What if you teach me?

The [Tutor] twitched behind him. Sammial had no volume-control. Ryoka sighed. Lets see. Imagine she was talking to mini-Ryoka. What would Ryoka say?

Im going to kick your ass, you entitled brat.

No, wait. Dont imagine you were talking to yourself or youd just want to hit yourself. The trouble wasRyoka tried again.

Lessons arent always fun, are they? But you cant just walk out of them. They teach you things you need to know.

Like what? Math?

Sammial scoffed. Ryoka bit her lip. Despite all the assurances of her teachers, not once had she actually used calculus to her knowledge, and she was in another world where she was arguably placed to use it the most!

Look, Im not going to argue with you about math, Sammial. If you cant do basic math, youre not going to have a good time paying for thingslet alone keeping a budget. Thats not the point. Remember our conversation about how you cant push people around. Especially people like me?

She gave him a meaningful look. Sammial hesitated.

Yes, but

but it seems like youre still doing it. Sometimes we have to do things we dont like. Especially if it helps us out. What if these weresword lessons and you refused to learn how to defend yourself?

He thought about it. Sammial stared doubtfully up at Ryoka.

Id be like you with father?

Ryokas face went slack. Yep. She hated intelligent kids..

Wellwhos taking lessons because your father was right?

Sammials face twisted up. He opened his mouth, closed it, and grudgingly looked over his shoulder.

Do I have to go back and learn now?

Ryoka smiled, breathing outright up until Ullim winced.

Your tutor has taken the day off, Lord Sammial. I ah, also cut Lord Hethons lessons short

Hethon came out of a room and spotted Ryoka and Sammial. The Wind Runner sighed and Ullim looked at her apologetically, albeit impressed. He clearly hadnt expected her to talk Sammial around.

A muddled victory. Ryoka gave up. Shed talk to the boys. So she jerked a thumb towards the door.

Alright. Dont mess with your [Tutors]. Thats my advice, Sammy. Especially if you want to go and have fun with a Courier. Lets go outside.

The boys cheered and followed Ryoka outside. Ullim smiled gratefully at Ryoka and she nodded back. She justwell, it was interesting. Mrsha needed her.

It seemed though, that if you thought of Mrsha, you also needed someone for Sammial and Hethon. It was not Ryokas job, nor did she know if she had the right to try and help.

She was going to do it, obviously. She just wasnt sure.

-

Lord Tyrion heard Ryoka was back via [Message] spell and cut short his tour of a northern fort.

Theyd killed another [Assassin]. The hunt was ongoing, and he had come to commend the [Soldiers]. Contrary to his relatives opinions, he had given them all time off and paid for entertainment.

He was good at, well, leading, managing, and training armed forces. A very narrow skill-set compared to all the ones you might hope for in life. Or maybe the problem was in what Lord Tyrion himself prized

Well, someone came to pay him a visit as he was riding back. Jericha signaled Lord Tyrion and he slowed to join and ride next to the slower group.

Lord Tyrion! Dead gods, but its hard to catch you. I was riding straight ahead, but I realized wed miss you unless we angled

Lord Pellmia puffed from riding hard in the saddle the last few miles. Tyrion nodded to him.

Lord Pellmia. I apologize; I wasnt aware you were in the area. How can I help you?

Direct as always. Formal as always. Pellmia fished for a handkerchief, glancing at Tyrions escort.

Would you mind if we rideslowertogether? In private?

The other [Lord] instantly nodded. His people fell back, including Jericha, and the two rode in the center of their formation, out of earshot of their guards.

Tyrion, it may be presumptuous of me, but I heard about the Wind Runner flitting about House Veltras lands, and Ill be damned if I didnt thinkwell. Dont bite my head off, but I assume youre hosting her as a guest?

Pellmia came out with it after a moment. Tyrion nodded.

She has been most helpful. A guest at the keep. My sons respect her, and there is always work for a Courier

Not to mention that damned Kaalblade or whatever it was she was swinging around? I nearly lost my jaw, watching her slayit must have been sixty Wyverns!

Indeed. A magnificent weapon.

I would love to see it. And speak to her briefly. One always needs a trusty Courier.

Pellmia nodded a few times. Tyrion gestured ahead.

We are riding back. I can send word to Ullim to prepare guest rooms.

The older [Lord] hesitated. He was clearly torn, but eventually slowed to stare up at the trees. They were passing around one of the smaller forests, grown from the Vail Forest itself.

Sunlight dappled leaves overhead. The breeze was blowing gently, rustling the world around them. The sound of the horses hooves, the smell of nature

It was on days like this a man felt alive. Tyrion looked as relaxed as Pellmia had ever seen him. In his element. It was rare to see him notso stiff. Even smiling.

They said of him, behind his back, that every time Lord Tyrion smiled, spring was delayed another month. Or that every time he smiled, a Kraken stirred.

That was cruel. Injust. Lord Pellmia had known Tyrion as a boy, and more as he grew older. He had always been like this, but there had been a time when he smiled more. When he laughed and when he hadnt been stone. He thoughthe had seen that again.

The [Lord] spent so much time looking at the forest trail that Tyrion eventually cleared his throat.

Pellmia? Will you be staying?

Pellmia stirred. He glanced at Tyrion, and shook his head.

I should like to meet the Wind Runner, but I wont impose. Tell me, Tyrion. What are your impressions of her?

He listened, carefully, as Tyrions brows knitted.

She is an extraordinary Courier. Im in her debt. She has been honest and straightforward as one can ask for, and she is certainly fast. Her ability to command the wind is impressive.

He replied after a moment. Pellmia nodded.

Not to mention her magic sword. And your sons like her?

Shehas a way with them. Sammial and Hethon respect her, which is rare. I find her curious. Brave. Refreshing.

It seemed Tyrion had gone one word too far, because he turned his head slightly and regarded the distant riders. Pellmia sighed, and smiled.

Striking too. Is she from Baleros, Drath? Ah, well, that doesnt matter, does it? Its a rare sort of woman, whom you take to. It was like that with both my wives. I still miss Eiress.

His first wife, another casualty of the March of Roses. Tyrion dipped his head silently. He waited for Pellmia to make sense, but the [Lord] just hummed under his breath.

Tyrion, its out of concern, not anything else, you understand.

Id hardly take offense to you, Lord Pellmia. If I did, Id state it directly.

Pellmia waved a hand.

Consider it advice. I know it has been a while and well, the young man I remember had a certain charmbut all the tact of a lance to the chest. Its my experience, and that of Keireenwho sends her regardsthat you need to make an effort.

Lord Tyrions eyes flickered.

About? And how so?

Pellmia blew out his cheeks. This was harder than he thought. Taking aside a younger [Lord] was easier than a man Tyrions age. He wished hed gotten backupbut imagine six [Lords] all riding together and gossiping like girls? No, no. He pushed on.

Activities, Tyrion! A Courier is not, well, not like regular women. Some might be impressed by House Veltras amenities here, but you must admit, for someone of her means and travel, this area can be quite dull. Im sure Miss Griffin might appreciate more interesting pursuits?

Hm. Its true we havent offered her much as a guest. Shes been working.

Tyrion nodded to that, since that was the first understandable point Pellmia had made. The [Lord] exhaled.

Exactly. Well, Keireen was of the opinion that if the Wind Runner was sticking around, thats already a good sign. Did she take the Courier-jobs for a song?

His daughter had told him to ask about that. She was very sharpTyrion frowned.

Too cheaply. She felt it was a debt.

Thats excellent. Now, you should reciprocate. Dead gods, Tyrion, Im sure neither of us wants to list off suggestions! What about a visit to one of the larger cities, though? You two can zip across Izril. A tour of one of the islands by ship? It will peter out unless you show her more than your regular faade. Enough people think youre disinterested. I know you well enough to know when you like someone, but someone who hasnt your measure doesnt.

Tyrion thought about this. Was he coming off as standoffish? He nodded slowly.

Salient points, Pellmia.

The [Lord] nodded, relaxing.

Good, good. Be straightforward. Id sayjust tell her you want her to stay around as well. Straight-off, before she heads away. Keireen told me to tell youwell, be direct so you both know where you stand.

Lord Tyrion hesitated.

Surely thats too much to ask, Pellmia?

Not for this! She has to make up her mind. Shes a young woman, but you are Lord Veltras so Id give you a good shot. Im on your side. Just be directIm not sure if mentioning how your sons like her would help, but it certainly doesnt hurt they adore her! Thats all. Im not speculating into the restjust set the stage. Tell her youd rather she hung about. Visited, if a permanent room is too much. Dont bring out the wedding ring until

The [Lord] of House Veltras had been half-nodding, frowning at Pellmia, but listening right until that last bit. Then he stopped dead on the forest trail.

Wedding ring?

Pellmia was checking the notes Keireen and his daughter had helped him write. Maybe he should just give it to the man; Tyrion liked written instructions.

I know its been a while since Salva, Tyrion. However, you have to consider your sons too. When itsjust pure luck like this, you need to strike. As I said, Id offer you both a chance to avail yourself of my Houses entertainment

There was a difference between willful ignorance or playing dumb and sheer density. Lord Tyrion was in the rare, authentic case of the latter. All the pieces of the conversation finally fell into place. Lord Pellmia went on. Tyrion had to speak three times to interrupt him.

Pellmia. Pellmia. I think youre mistaken. I wasnt aware this was a conversation aboutcourting Miss Ryoka. Thatwas not what I thought we were talking about.

Lord Pellmia stopped. He stared at Tyrion. He rode on forwards, turning to stare at Tyrion with mouth open for so long his horse walked him into a low-hanging branch. Even after it smacked him in the side, he just kept staring.

Dead gods. It was worse than Pellmia thought. How had the man ever managed to marry Salva? Wellit had been mutual. She must have had to chase him down with a net, poor woman

Lord Pellmia. If we are discussingcourtship, I fear you may be misinformed. There is nothing between Miss Griffin and myself, and I have certainly not intimated otherwise. Nor do I typicallyseek out advice. If I did, I am certain I would appreciate this information. However

Looking exceptionally uncomfortable, Lord Tyrion spoke stiffly. You could actually see him drawing back, visibly growing distant. Pellmia looked at him.

Tyrion Veltras. I see I have been presumptuous. For that, I apologize.

The [Lord] nodded, relieved. Lord Pellmia Quellae, of House Quellae, the [Lord of Orchards], who had nevertheless proven himself in war, twice-married, with a son and daughter from his first marriage, respected by his people, friend and supporter of House Veltras, fixed Tyrion with a keen eye.

Like the man was a piece of fruit from the finest trees, which were worthy of royalty. Pellmia spoke slowly.

I have been presumptuous, Tyrion. So, let me be clear. I am speaking, as I have been speaking this entire time, about Ryoka Griffin, the Courier, the Wind Runner of Reizmelt, and yourself, Lord Tyrion Veltras of House Veltrasand giving you advice about entering a relationship with the young lady, courting her with the intention of marriage if it should prove both you and she care for each other. Marriage, as defined by you marrying her and making her your wife. A relationship, which I would hope stems from mutual attraction and leads to

Lord Tyrion had slowly been flushing throughout Pellmias speech. He cut Pellmia off.

Lord Pellmia. Speculating about Miss Ryoka Griffin and myself is not something I would welcome. I appreciate your concern

To his astonishment, Pellmia cut him off.

Tyrion, I have never thought of you as a fool.

Thank y

Except in terms of love and relationships. I grant you that I may have been wrong in where you are if youve never considered the Wind Runnerand if you got to her staying under your roof, thats an incredible amount of misunderstandings which I shall laugh about all the way back to my home. And then for the next month. However, to save you from yourself, I must ask you. Are you certain that there is no chance, not one for all the good reasons weve listed, that Ryoka Griffin would ever, ever be someone youre interested in?

He waited. Tyrions jaw worked. Pellmia just stared at him. You heard rumors about other [Lords]or [Ladies]. Such as Ieka. They saidwell, that was gossip. But Tyrion?

Lord Tyrions first response was to excuse himself from Pellmia and his delusions. The man was growing senile. Also, he was being highly rude. He was

The [Lord] rode in silence as he was about to voice this. Hehesitated. Now he looked at it from the outside, some of Jerichas comments, not to mention Ullims, took on a different light.

Had he been giving off the wrong impression to everyone? The thought was mortifying. Then Tyrion wondered.

Had he been giving the wrong impression to everyone? Or just himself?

He remembered riding after the Wind Runner. It was a single moment, as he stared up at the sky, on her first true flight. He remembered seeing her laughing as the wind blew. His heartsoaring.

In that moment, Tyrion Veltras had met someone faster than he was. Someone who could fly. Savior of his two children.

In all that time, a voice whispered to him, did you really conduct yourself with only impartial respect and admiration for Ryoka Griffin? Truly?

Tyrion Veltras hated lies. Which included the ones he told himself. He looked at Pellmia as the proverbial scales fell from his eyes. And out of his ears.

Salva. Suddenly, Tyrion felt guilty. Suddenly, he was conflicted about his sons, his dead wife. About loyalty to her, about his actions. He would not have been if Pellmia was wrong. Unfortunately, it seemed Lord Tyrion Veltras was interested in Ryoka Griffin.

It was a huge shock. To himself most of all.

Pellmia saw it all in a second. An unguarded look on Tyrions face. The [Lord of Orchards] smiled. He turned his head, but Tyrion saw the gesture. The younger [Lord] struggled to speak.

Ibelieved you were wrong at first, Lord Pellmia. Which may have been true. Up till now. Perhaps you were simplyforward. I would like to speak further. If we may.

Lord Pellmia just nodded. He and Tyrion rode along. Speaking more openly. So, there it was.

Jericha lay on her back, eyes open wide. Struck, like a hammer. Well, she had fallen off her horse after riding into a branch.

-

Of course, that was all just Tyrion. Ryoka Griffin was oblivious to the conversation as she stood with Hethon and Sammial in a field.

An empty field recently harvested of wheat. This was like Earthonly the rows were dug by hand, and they werent so packed. It was far smaller than a combine-harvester and mechanized industry could create.

However, Skills and magic made the field beautiful in other ways. Taller wheat, more lovely, of a greater quality.

If there was an analogy for the split between worlds, perhaps that was it. This world had less, but the less could be more special. However, people were still people between them.

Kids were kids.

She had thought, as they walked about, as Sammial and Hethon got on their wind sail-craft and let the wind blow them around, how to tackle this.

The truth wasgiving kids a genuine lesson was hard. It was easy to say something high-minded like they had to take lessons and social responsibility and so on. Easy to saybut Ryoka thought of how shed take it. She would probably look up at her older self, lecturing her about all this, then do a spinning kick to Older Ryokas leg.

Kids werent idiots. They were young, and maybe less intelligent in some ways, but they didnt buy bullshit. So, after Sammy and Hethon had tired themselves out a bit, Ryoka walked with them and they found themselves in the field.

Nice place, isnt it?

Ryoka looked around. The glory of nature, a beautifully-harvested field as the wind blew on a summer day. In moments like this, a womanpeoplefelt alive.

Hethon and Sammial nodded.

Miss Griffin

The older young lordling hesitated. Ryoka was smiling. She turned her head and he stared up shyly at her. If other people admired Ryoka for many reasons, Hethons were maybe simpler in some waysbut that wasnt the only reason! He tried to stop imagining walking in on her in the bath. Stupid Sammialhed kicked his brother hard when he heard about that.

What is it, Hethon?

She looked so peaceful, Hethon wasnt sure if he should say it.

Um. You know this is a field theyre reseeding, right?

Hm? Oh, yeah. Are we not supposed to be on it?

Hethon hesitated.

No, I dont think the [Farmer] cares. But theyre reseeding it. Soits fertilized. Youre standing in manure.

Ryokas face went slack. She stared at her feet. Her bare feet; Hethon and Sammial had shoes.

Ryoka Griffin began swearing and ran out of the field. Hethon and Sammial had to laugh. This was why the Wind Runner was great. Every second was like this.

At least she didnt have Namas footwraps on. Ryoka sighed. Jericha said they were highly magical. She wiped her feet on the grass for about three dozen yards and then turned to the boys.

Her element of wonder had been partly lost, but the wind blew around them as always. That was beautiful. Ryoka was going to have a second bath later.

Yet in this moment, she turned to the kids. She composed herself, and launched into her speech.

I need to talk to you guys about the [Tutors]. I know its not my job and Im not Tyrion or Jericha or Ullim, but I have to.

Hethon and Sammial looked at each other. Hethon glowered at Sammy. What had he done now? Sammy avoided his older brothers look.

I know I shouldnt leave tutoring. Im sorry, Miss Ryoka. I wont do it again.

He recited it by rote. Ryoka knew every line Sammial was spouting off, from the hundreds of times shed said variants of it, sincerely, insincerely

Perhaps he even meant it. It didnt matter, though. Even if Sammial resolved to change his ways and never use his aura on a [Tutor] again, that wasnt the problem, was it?

Ryoka had thought long and hard about her past, and the problem wasnt just being tutored in something you didnt like. She shook her head.

You know you shouldnt do that, Sammial. We had a talk and Im sure youll try. Butthats not the problem, is it?

Both boys looked at her. Ryoka went on, searching for her words. Speaking to little reflections of herself.

Its justnot fun. Thats the problem, isnt it? Day in, day out, having to take lessons when you could be having fun? Notgetting to enjoy yourself sometimes? Wantingmore.

They gave her a strange look. For a moment, Ryoka feared she was talking out her butt, that she was completely wrong.

But that wasnt why Hethon and Sammial stared. To them, it was as if the Wind Runner were staring right through them. She went on, encouraged by their looks.

SometimesIm sure you get angry. Really angry. Only, you cant shout at the adults. You get in trouble.

I shout at adults. All the time, sometimes.

Ryoka nodded at Sammy as he vouched that obvious truth.

Do you feel better? Or do you feel bad? I betyou dont feel great, especially if you use your aura on them. I know, because thats how I felt growing up a lot of the time.

She closed her eyes, thinking back.

I remember I wanted more than just being taught lessons and someday growing up and getting a job. I wantedwell, to be special. And I was sure, deep down, I wasnt. Not really.

When she looked at them again, the two boys were giving her the same look. It was possible that no grown up, no one ever, had ever spoken to them halfway as deep as this before.

It was uncomfortable to Hethon, hearing the Wind Runner talk like this. Uncomfortableand appealing. He felt that this was honest; knew it was. Understanding someone? A kind of intoxication of its own.

The Wind Runner looked at him, then at Sammial.

Sometimes you have to do things that suck. Like learning math, history. Sometimes its your teachers that arent fun, and sometimes its you. Your attitude. I think, thoughyou can change whats terrible. Especially you two. If you dont like a [Tutor], is there someone whos a better teacher?

The boys looked at each other.

Jerichas more fun to teach magic. And we like her more, but shes always busy with father. I hate math, but Ullim is better since he lets us help with the budgets. But hes busy too, so we have [Tutors].

Ryoka exhaled.

We couldask them to take over. Or your father?

Hethon and Sammial looked apprehensive.

But theyre busy.

Thats probably what theyd been told every day of their lives. Ryoka folded her arms.

Probably. I bet your father would still think you were worth them spending time teaching you, as much as they can. The problem is he has to know theyre the best. That you need them.

It was hard to talk to distant parents. Hethon and Sammial looked at their shoes. Ryoka saw them stare at her feet. She shifted them.

What if I ask for you? Would that help?

Shyly, Hethon looked up at her and she saw the answer in his eyes. Sammial bit his lip, but then peeked at Hethon, at Ryoka, and nodded.

That would be better.

The Wind Runner smiled. She hadnt actually expected to hear them say they just wanted more time from both adults, but it made sense. She went on.

There are other things I learned when I was growing up. I took lessons in martial arts.

Martial arts? Like punching people?

Something like that. There was this schoolwell, it was good for me to practice something. You dont have to do that, but it helps. Believe me. I sort of wish Id played a musical instrument too

She had been thinking of all the things that could help two lonely boys. She knew they were destined to be [Lords] and she couldnt do anything about that. Butkids to play with? They stayed at the keep, even before their father had been protective of them.

You two shouldnt stay here all the time. I know its House Veltras keep, but theres no one like you. Your age, I mean.

There are the servants and city-kids. They play with us sometimes.

Sammial pointed out, just to be contrary. However, Hethon knew they never acted around Sammial and him like they did when the two werent there. He looked at Ryoka, hungrily. How did she know what they wanted?

She met his eyes and he felt a shock. The wind blew around Ryoka, picking up a bit.

Wouldnt it be great to have a lot of friends, though? Idont know the perfect spot. But theres one or two I can imagine. Ill ask your father. What about visiting your relatives, like in the marshes? Lady Buscrei and her family in Oswen?

They dont like us. I hate them.

Sammial wiped his nose on his sleeve. Ryoka coaxed him.

I dont think thats true. They were asking about you. Give it a shot? You could go sledding with the otter-dogs. Or what about staying in that town with [Druids] and learning from them for a while?

The two boys imagined that. Their faces lit up. Ryoka looked at them and wondered why Tyrion, Jericha, Ullim, had never envisioned the same.

Perhaps because it was Tyrion. Had he grown up like this? It explaineda lot. Just practice courts, armies, the keepshe shook her head.

Ill talk to your father and Jericha and Ullim if you want me to. Okay?

They nodded. Ryoka smiled. One last thing. She bent over.

Great. In that caseIll give you one last thing along with talking to the adults. A little trick in case you get angry again, or frustrated. It helped me.

Their eyes brightened. The vision of better education was hard for boys to understand, especially if they only knew this life. But a trick? From the Wind Runner?

Is it a spell? We cant cast magic properly yet, but I can use my aura! Hethon cant!

Sammys older brother shoved him and Sammy shoved back. Before they could escalate, Ryoka put a hand between them and shook her head.

Nope. Its just a trick in case youre really angry and you have to do something. Instead of using your aura or punching someonehas anyone told you if youre angry, you should punch a pillow?

Sammy and Hethon eyed Ryoka.

Nofather says take it out on a practice dummy. Jericha says let it go, but she says stupid things sometimes.

Sammy retorted. Ryoka exhaled.

Yeah, neither one worked out for me. I used to go for a run, so thats like the practice dummy. I went for a long run. But also: if I was ever really angry, I went to a field and screamed. Loud as I could. As long as I wanted, until I felt better.

Well, not a field, but her room with music on full-blast, somewhere privatethe boys looked at her oddly. Maybe anger-management techniques werent the best to lay on them. Then Sammy grinned.

I like that. I can just scream?

If it beats hitting someone, yeah. Want to try?

Sammy thought about it. Hethon was fidgeting. Sammy thoughhe just inhaled, tilted his head back, and shouted.

Aaaah! Aaaaah! I HATE MATH!

Ryoka and Hethon laughed. Sammial shouted until he was red in the face, and he had a fairly prodigious voice.

I DONT LIKE YELLATS! I WANT TO RIDE A HORSE! AAAAAAH!

Good job!

The Wind Runner laughed, her eyes sparkling. Hethon watched her side-long, as Sammial yelled until he was hoarse. Then his younger brother laughed.

I feel better! Thanks, Miss Griffin! My throat hurts. I want a healing potion.

ErI can give you some

Ryoka fumbled for her potion, but Sammial was already talking again. Hethon envied that.

If I get Ullim and Jericha to teach me, will Father teach me how to use a sword? And if we visit other places in House Veltrasoh! Look! Theres father! Can I ask him now?

He whirled. Somehow, incredibly, Sammial pointed into the distance. Ryoka and Hethons heads turned. They sawthe open road. Nothing.

Aura. Hethon felt the twinge of jealousy he normally felt and pushed it down. Ryoka blinked. She frownedlooked at Sammials confident face and finger, and glanced up.

Wait one sec.

So saying, Hethon felt a gust of air and threw his hands up as dirt and debris flew into the air. He saw Ryoka shoot into the sky. Open-moutheduntil he got some dirt in itHethon saw her hover, then descend in a swooping arc.

Sammial whooped with delight and Hethon felt as astounded as he had the first time hed seen it. So amazing. Better than being a [Lord].

Youre right, Sammial. Your fathers coming. We can talk to him

Ill tell Ullim first! And that fathers coming!

Sammial dashed towards the keep. Hethon knew there was no real need; he saw some [Soldiers] detach themselves in the distance and follow Sammial.

They had been there the entire time, watching from a very polite distance, but Tyrion was not about to entrust his sons wellbeing to any one person, even Ryoka or Jericha or himself.

It saved Ryoka from immediately having to chase after him. She adjusted the wind-suit, and looked at Hethon.

Hey Hethon, have I said anything wrong? You can tell me if I made a mistake.

Um. No, Miss Griffin.

Hethon mumbled. He felt suddenly shy without Sammial to talk on. He wished he had talked to Ryoka as much as Sammial. Hethon cast around for something to say.

T-thanks for teaching me about the anger trick and talking with father. Sammy liked it.

And you?

Her green-eyed glance made Hethon shrug. He felt it was toopiercing.

Im fine. Im not as angry as Sammial is.

Ryoka stared ahead without speaking for a moment. The wind blew around them, carrying the scents of the world to them. She looked at Hethon again.

Uh huh. You know, Hethon, you both remind me of how I was, growing up. Sammials me when I was really youngyou remind me of when I was a bit older. Youre not angry at all? Not a little bit?

Hethon flushed.

Maybe a little? Sometimes?

Sure you dont want to scream?

The boy turned redder. Ryoka stared at himand realized how embarrassing it probably was for someone like her to ask Hethon out of the blue to scream in the middle of a field.

She blushed a bit herself.

Sorry. I just realized its super-awkward to ask.

Just a bit. Do youactually do it?

Hethon glanced up at her and she grinned despite herself. Ryoka hesitated.

Wellyes. All the time when I was younger.

Do you do it now?

The Wind Runner was embarrassed to realize she hadnt. Were there things to make Ryoka angry at this moment? Upset?

Absolutely. She regarded Hethonand realized she didnt want to scream with Lord Tyrion about to arrive, the [Soldiers] watching, and him.

Um. It really is amazing Sammial can do it by himself, isnt it?

They both grinned. It was all Sammy.

Well, crap on her feet. Here she was offering advice she wasnt taking herself. There was a word for that: hypocrite. Also, idiot.

The Courier gazed at the young [Lord], at the empty field, and then at the wind blowing the wheat stalks from the field around and the distant forest too.

She had an idea.

Hey, Hethon. Its super-embarrassing to shout when anyone can hear you. Butwhat if we both agreed to do it? Ill make the wind howl, so theres no way anyone can hear us. If I did thatwould you feel like trying it?

The boyor was it young man, already?stared up at Ryoka. He hesitated. Then he nodded and grinned.

How loud will it be?

No one will hear a thing, even me. Swear to it. Couriers honor.

Ryoka offered tentatively. Hethon nodded again. So the Courier and Hethon faced away from the keep. They took a few deep breaths.

The wind began to pick up. At first, slowly. Then it grew stronger. Hethon heard the wind whipping at his clothes and ears. Then it grew louder. Louderhe glanced up at Ryoka and she was grinning. It was just stupid, but Hethon began laughing as a whirlwind blew around them.

Louder. It became a howl unto itself, the whirlwind even blocking the world out. Now? Hethon looked at Ryoka, shielding his face.

He saw her screaming something into the vortex. He heard not a thing. Hethons eyes widened.

No one would hear what he said. In this moment, he would never be heard, and he could be sure of that when he never could before. Thoughts that had only been in his headhe could speak them.

Shout them. There was an amazing sense of relief, desire, he felt at that idea. To say something as loud as you could and know youd never bother anyone? Never be heard?

In the roar of the wind, the calm, exhilarating eye of this storm, Hethon Veltras opened his mouth and gave voice to something. At first, it was a shout. Words of anger, loss. Longing.

Then it grew louder. He screamed with all the passion in his lungs, and it stopped being words. He was sure Ryoka was doing the same.

They shouted in pure silence, in the maelstrom of noise and wind. Shouted, until they lost their voices. Until they were laughing. Maybe even crying for a second.

No one would know. It was their secret.

-

Ryoka Griffin screamed for the Horns of Hammerad, about her worries, her guilt. Her loss. For anger, and even childhood. She never heard what Hethon said, but when the wind died, and as they met each others gazes again, they were both laughing.

The wind had messed up their hair. They were a bit breathless, exhilarated, hoarsebut Ryoka thought the young man looked at her with newfound familiarity. She stuck out her hand, and he shook it, smiling.

Miss Courier? Is everything alright?

A [Soldier] approached. Theyd come close, as the maelstrom began. Ryoka started guiltily, but Hethon spoke for her.

Miss Griffin was showing me a whirlwind. I asked her to.

Ah, very good, Lord Veltras.

The man instantly bowed. Ryoka saw Hethons face take onshe shook her head as the bodyguard fell back. Too much power for kids.

However, perhaps shed helped with his burden. Hethon looked lighter as they walked over to meet Sammial. She nudged him.

Just ask if you want to do that again. That was a relief for me too. Ill just do that from now on.

He nodded shyly. That was how they met Lord Tyrion Veltras.

He was riding in the company of Lord Pellmia, Jericha and the others. He eyed the breathless trio, hair standing in crazy ways. Lord Pellmia glanced at the Wind Runner as she greeted them, abashed. He smiled.

A pleasure to meet you again, Miss Griffin. We are all in your debt. I dont know that youd recall, but we met at theparty in Riverfarm? I am Lord Pellmia of House Quellae.

The Courier didnt remember clearly, but the name and face were familiar when he said it. She smiled and was surprised when they shook hands instead of her bowing.

Its very nice to meet you again, Lord Pellmia. Im uh, sorry about the wind, Lord Veltras. Your sons were having fun. Ive delivered the letters, as requested.

Thank you, Miss Ryoka. You have been exceptionally helpful, with both Hethon and Sammial and House Veltras affairs.

Tyrion dismounted, nodding to her. Pellmia was smiling. Good with kids.

The younger [Lord] pointedly ignored the glance. Lord Tyrion inspected Ryoka, and had to reconsider himself in the face of his chat with Pellmia. Sammial was already talking about visiting other places and tutors? Ryoka appeared embarrassed and Hethon kept trying to shut Sammy up and greet Pellmia properly as the older [Lord] laughed.

It was all impropriety. With another guest not as familiar as Pellmia, Tyrion would have been embarrassed. If it wasnt for Ryoka, he would have upbraided the two boys instantly, or Sammial.

Howeverit was always worth asking if he was wrong. He had scarcely seen them like this. Not just smiling, but like this.

Breathless, exhilarated, full of too much energy and having spent it already. What waswhat was this?

Ah. Yes.

Happy. They seemed rather happy, despite all they had suffered through. Lord Tyrion saw it, and wondered why it was so hard to recognize.

It was so easy to thank Ryoka, to pretend that was all, to think of her presence as being good for Hethon and Sammial.

The thing was, you could never go back. The lance struck its target or missed, and the world changed.

Lord Tyrion Veltras would have had to lie to pretend he didnt see things differently, and he hated lying. So, he nodded at Ryoka.

You have been most helpful, Miss Ryoka.

Thank you. Ifeel like I owe House Veltras. And were friends, I meanHethon and Sammial.

She ducked her head, embarrassed and awkward. Far too forward. If she hadnt saved his sonsbut she had. It was hard to stand at a remove when you owed someone like that everything that mattered.

Tyrion thought of this. He nodded as Jericha and the other [Soldiers] got down and Pellmia murmured to Ullim.

Just an hour or two, Ullim. Nothing long; I wont tarry for dinner. I must be getting back, but something to knock the dust off? We were hit by flying dirt on the way in. Some kind of freak weather event. Perhaps a bit of a wash?

Ryoka turned beet-red, but Pellmia neglected to assign specific blame. Sammial was opening his mouth.

Ask her to stay? Tyrion frowned. Lies and perspective. He looked at Ryoka.

House Veltras stands in your debt, Miss GrRyoka. If there is debt, it is mutual. Friendship, even. Your presence has been welcome for Sammial, Hethon, and I hope you will have time to stay. It isgood to see you.

Lord Pellmias head turned and his eyes lit up. Jericha sighed, and Ullim glanced at his [Lord] with eyes alight. Ryoka wavered, but Tyrion wasnt done. He met her gaze.

In fact, I would go as far to say that I, personally, admire your character and abilities.

Lord Pellmias jaw opened. He gaped at Tyrion, and began to speak, but it was too late. Lord Tyrion formally sank to one knee as those around him turned and stared. He stared up at Ryoka, who had frozen.

It is myadmiration of you, Miss Griffin, that forces me to profess my interest in you in more than a platonic sense. As I cannot meet your parents or guardian, I would formally ask you for permission to court your hand.

One did not dance with the truth, but held it out. That was the Tyrion Veltras way.

It was also the most horrifying thing Lord Pellmia had ever seen in his entire life. The [Lord] stood there, horror-struck as Ryoka Griffin turned into a statue.

Hethon, Sammial, Jericha, Ullim, Pellmia, the [Soldiers]even the horses gazed on in silence. Tyrion Veltras just held Ryokas eyes. She stared at him.

You could say this for Tyrionthere was no way of misinterpreting his intentions. Not even Erin Solstice could haveRyoka realized he was waiting for a response. As inright now.

IuhIm uh

Lord Pellmia, no, even Hethon and Sammial saw the future. Which was, in two seconds, Ryoka exploding into flight across Izril in a burst of wind. So the [Lord of Orchards] moved. He reached outgrabbed Tyrionand hauled him to his feet.

With his other hand, he clapped Ryoka on the shoulder. Tyrion turned to face him. Lord Pellmias smile was of a man watching a stab-victim.

What a fine gesture.

He bellowed desperately.

Why dont we all delay that until a more private setting is reached? We cant rush these things, Tyrion. Ullim? I think I need a room after all. Miss Griffin, I do apologize forI do apologize, but an old man like me craves a seat.

II

Pellmia shot Ullim a look and the two older men hustled everyone towards the keep. Pellmia had never fought so hard to keep a smile on his face. He had once rode pillion with a dear friend after losing his horse in a battle with Drake armies, facing down a [Wyvern Rider].

Lord Pellmia needed to be twice as good as he had been that day. A wing-rider fit to capture the Wind Runner before she flew off. Five Families, he had to save Tyrion from himself.

The [Lord of Orchards] bared his teeth for the most desperate, difficult mission of mercy in his life.

Somewhere, Ryoka Griffin thought she could hear Ivolethe laughing at her.

-

Even Lord Tyrion Veltras couldnt match the speed at which the news broke across Izril. First via familythen everyone else because family gossiped.

Within two days, members of House Veltras were leaving their estates, roused by the events. Among them, Lord Setth, Lady Buscrei, and six more relatives all gathered at Oswen to discuss the issue.

Not because they cared about the political implications like some of the family. They just thought it was hilarious. Especially how it had gone down.

Lady Buscrei turned to the rest of her family as they gathered in her hunting-lodge home. She thought of the Wind Runner of Reizmelt and smugly slapped her second-eldest sons shoulder.

Told you shed make a good one of us. And that they were probably in bed.

The others laughed, but Lord Swey raised an urgent hand, demanding the others attention. His brows crossed with real concern.

If she marries indyou think we all get gliders?

Thoughtfully, the [Lords] and [Ladies] inspected the idea. Then, unanimously, put their support behind love, Ryoka Griffin, and gliders in the upcoming argument.

Authors Note: Im on break! Well, its time. Energy goes away, and so does quality! I dont know how I even did it before I took breaks

That may be why the story gets better. Time off matters! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this smaller, sort of slice-of-life chapter! Ill be back ready to write a lot!

See you then!

Erin as a [Witch] by Uni!

Nice-Mrsha by /Bobo_Boppins

Ko-Fi: /boboplushie

Frozen Erin, Teleporting Horns, Fetohep, and more by /henodus2