Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

A mild breeze blew past in the light of mid-morning, the scent of Arborea light in the air of the eighth ring of the Outlands. Wending their way along the road, two walked alongside one another, cresting a shallow hill. The older -- a young half-elf garbed in rosewood, dirty blond hair blowing about in the wind -- paused for a moment on the peak, such as it was, and took in a deep breath as he enjoyed the moment. “Do you smell that, Tiana? I suppose one could say that adventure is in th-”

Continuing past him, his companion stopped only long enough to cut him off with a weary look before continuing on down the hill. Even younger than Trasal, her long golden hair was tied into a tight braid, its color a sign -- along with the grey eyes just short of green and the subtle radiance that seemed to glow from her nearly too-pale skin -- of the few drops of celestial blood mixed into her otherwise-human lineage.

“...Yes, a bit obvious, I suppose.” Resuming his own walk, he quickly caught up with her, peering ahead at the village on the horizon. “Not far now. This one would be Broadshire, I believe?”

Tiana nodded absently, glancing here and there, watching the fields and skies as she adjusted her gloves. She crouched beside the road, eyeing the grass alongside, noting the lack of even a single cricket.

With a put-upon sigh and a playful half-smile, he cast her a sidelong glance, pausing and leaning on a slim cane carefully carved with images of winged women as he followed her gaze. “Your oath already? You know I’ll need to talk twice as much to fill the air, hmm?”

Though she offered a mild smirk of her own as she stood, it quickly faded as her attention returned to their environs. With a slight nudge, she gestured across the quiet plains, frowning with concern.

Appraising it himself, her partner tapped at his cane with his fingertips, returning her frown. “Yes, it's empty here too, isn't it? Not a beast to be seen. More bad omens. We must be on the right track. You can feel it too, I trust?”

Without response, she looked ahead to the village, eyes set as she returned to her stride.

“Come on, Cathra. You know how this goes.”

“Y’can’t prove nothin’, Matt!” Grunting and tugging, bare tail whipping back and forth behind her, Cathra Mielhof, the seven-foot-tall tiefling girl, did her best to pull free of her captor’s grip, to dig claws into the dirt, anything to slow him down; neither well-built nor lanky, but more akin to a gymnast scaled in size, her snake-like skin was an angry red, its color matching the curved horns framing her face but clashing strongly against her midnight-blue hair.  None of it came to anything, of course, just like each time before; she managed little more than banging her head against the doorframe as he pulled her in, forgetting in her anger to duck. Sheriff Matthew D’Shyre -- older by decades, though how many wasn't quite clear, his skin tan and his black hair closely cropped -- stopped for a brief moment at the sound, making sure she didn’t manage to hurt herself beyond a bump, before taking her to the large cell in the one-room office below his lodgings. Somehow, despite the extra foot of height Cathra had on him, he still seemed to tower over her, offering her little more than a grizzled frown.

“In, Cathra. And try not to wake up your roommate.” He sighed, weary, and a bit disappointed. “One week.”

As he let her arm go, she considered for a moment darting off and seeing how much distance she could make. She could be out of this dungheap of a berg in a couple blinks, put this all behind her. Find her way to Sigil, find some real opportunities for some jink.

When seeing the expression on his face, though, something inside her deflated. She caved, shoulders slumping as her quarrel fell to mere grumbling. “Yeah, yeah. Berk.”

Letting the insult slide off just as each time before, D'Shyre closed the door behind her and carried her pack to his desk, stowing it in a lockbox in the corner. “I’ll let Mother Elyssa know. I’m sure she’ll be by to visit tonight.”

“Ugh. Do y’have t’tell her?” She cringed at the thought of getting yet another speech about the wrong path and all that rot. “Just tell her I got kidnapped. By demons. Come t’take me t’the Abyss like she was always warning! Oh, if only I’d listened, but it’s too late for me now...”

As Cathra flopped against the wall and let herself slide to the floor, the curled up gnoll beside her snorting in his sleep, he couldn’t help but crack a smile, his eyes softening. “I have to tell her, kid. But I’ll keep it quiet otherwise. I’m sure Cairon will find out sooner or later. Especially after that scene you threw. But it won’t be from me.”

“Pfah. Tell him whatever you want. What do I care?” Her cat-eyes sharpened as she glared off into the distance, muttering under her breath. “Not even givin’ me a trial. Soddin’ lawman thinks he’s a king or somethin’.”

Though about to speak, he glanced outside, the sound of an approaching pair grabbing his attention. Turning back for a moment to Cathra, he began to step towards the door. “I’ll be back soon. Take some time to think!”

As he exited, she yelled back after him, “Got nothin’ to think about, berk!” Looking to her cellmate, she gave him a sharp kick for good measure, ignoring the quiet yelp.

Sitting in rear of the merchant’s wagon, Jazaka steadied herself, every bump over a rock and every slip into a rut shooting right up into her spine. A largely unassuming woman, when not cramped in a merchant’s wagon she stood taller than most mammals, though with a much thinner frame than most of her lizardfolk brethren. Where she sat now, her light-brown scales tended to blend into the wood of the crates that occupied most of the space here, though she garbed herself in finery in a manner unlike most of her kin; she always had a weakness for mammalian fashion, even before her travels.

She hissed at an especially rough jolt, biting her tongue as her frill twitched -- a bright teal running from just behind her jaw down either side of her neck when folded, the first thing to draw the eye of most. Squinting through clouded eyes, she tried to peer ahead, hoping to ensure that the driver truly was still there and the horses hadn’t decided to take off on their own into the fields to graze. She’d thought this a good idea: her mental compass urged her Hinterwards, and this man just happened to be carting his wares in that direction. The perfect arrangement.

She should have thought to ask for a cushion of some kind.

The jangling of bracelets and necklaces and bangles hardly helped matters either. It gave her something to examine, true. Something to pass the time. But the noise of it all was almost worse than the pressure on her mind, the sensation always pushing her onwards to Go Here Now for reasons as obscure to her as...well, as anything else nowadays.

The next bump brought forth a strangled cry she couldn’t entirely hold back, clawed hands and feet alike leaving thin scores in the wood as she clung tightly as she could manage to anything at all, but that still didn’t seem to have gotten the attention of her temporary chauffeur, thankfully.

A thick, plush cushion. With hand-stitching. And laced edges.

Her position was no help either. Crammed amongst racks and poles, tail twisted about her; it’s no way for a lizardfolk to travel, this. At least it’s still summer for a short while yet, she reminded herself. Small blessings. She couldn’t imagine trying to accomplish this in the dead of winter, the chill leeching at her the entire way through.

And on the topic of small blessings, she gave a quiet sigh of relief as the wagon began to slow, large hazy blobs just making themselves clear ahead of the trail. A chance to readjust herself, perhaps; a look about the wares, to see if she might get something useful out of this trip. She deserved a nice new bangle after-

Here.

Her head snapped up, as she again looked about. She knew that this was the spot. This was where she was meant to be. A month and a half of travel alone, a vow half-over spent following a sensation she’d never understood. Climbing from out back of the wagon and finding her footing on solid ground, she took a breath and paused to smooth the wrinkles from her well-sewn dress. She turned her head to the merchant and stepped towards him with her best attempt at a smile, while basking in the thought of how near she was.

“This is far enough, I think. Thank you again, sir.”

Quiet for a short moment, she continued, head lightly bowed in private amusement, “Though before I go, if I could ask on a price...”

Time passed, the sounds of a lively settlement soon filling the air and driving out the quiet of the empty plains. Tiana smiled, nodding to the locals in greeting, watching for an authority they -- well, he -- could speak with. She found herself surprised by a sudden voice to her rear, an uncommon event in itself, and her hand began to stray towards her falchion as she turned sharply towards the source.

“We don't often have adventurers coming through here. No trouble planned, I hope?” Tiana took in the sheriff with a quiet breath; an older man, but no layabout, with experience clear in his eyes and his stance. Arms crossed, he matched her appraisal with his own, his gaze flicking over them both as he seemed to read their entire life stories then and there.

Heedless of the inspection (or more likely simply choosing to ignore it), her partner stepped forward with free hand extended, offering an open, friendly grin. Well-practiced in dealing with such reactions, he recited their introductions almost from rote. “Oh, no adventurers us, sir. Inquisitor Trasal Regima, and my brilliant, if quiet, friend here is the lady Tiana Siderel. I promise you, we mean no trouble to your people.”

He kept his eyes on Trasal as he returned the handshake, clearly still suspicious of them both. “Matthew D’Shyre. Sheriff. And just what would bring an Inquisitor of the Furies and a knight of Chronepsis so far Chaos-side if not trouble? Far from your homes, no?”

The corner of her mouth twitched; she may wear her symbols proudly, but even upon Celestia her patron wasn’t much known. Trasal not quite as stoic as she, he did his best to recover, but she’s never known him to be much for improv.

“I, er, yes, I...suppose we might be. Far, that is. We’ve traveled long, you see, and...well, we seek to aid Law in-”

“Don’t trust Law folks much, I’m afraid. You have a reason for being here?”

“...irony, that, don’t you think? Well...you see...as I was saying, we seek to aid Law in all aspects. And finding...”

With a slight roll of her eyes, Tiana stepped forwards, tugging Trasal’s arm. After a brief conversation in sign (watched closely by the sheriff, she made note of), he nodded, taking a breath and getting his train of thought back on track.

“Yes. We’ve noted omens recently. Animals vanishing, leaving their homes. Winter blooms blossoming in the midst of a heatwave. Rainstorms in clear skies. Not unheard of, especially in this part of the Outlands, hm? Strange things happen Chaos-side. But there’s a pattern. Now...have you noticed anything of the sort?”

Opening his mouth to speak, the sheriff quickly closed it again, thinking things over, considering his own words. Finally, after a prolonged silence, he said simply, “I have.”

“Wonderful! We always prefer to work with observant people. Now, then, have you noticed anything particularly out of sorts lately?”

Another long silence before another terse reply. “Been a few reports. Animals acting weird in the woods counter-wise. Not sure if it’s related-”

“Ah, brilliant. Yes, I think we’d like to investigate just that, if you don’t mind.”

“Hold on. As I was saying, we don’t know if it’s related just yet.”

“All the more reason to investigate, no?”

With a slight grunt of annoyance, D'Shyre reluctantly nodded. “Fair, I suppose.”

“Now, would you mind leading us to these woods?”

“Leave the city alone?” He scoffed. “Not a chance. But-” His eyes aglint, he glances into the town proper, thinking matters over. “But I might know a few who could help. If you wouldn’t mind helping me in return.”

Before Tiana could do a thing, Trasal replied, “Why, of course, good sir! It’s only fair, mm?” Remaining staid beyond a slight glance Trasal’s way (one he didn’t even bother to notice, she thought) she still couldn’t help but be slightly irked as he yet again jumped in without surveying ahead first. “Tell us more?”

“Why don’t we have a drink, and I’ll be happy to.” Nodding his head back behind him, he turned, starting off for Broadshire’s tavern as the travelers followed in his wake.

“-Jreen shouldn’t even be here. Jreen did nothing wrong. Other gnolls probably halfway home by now. It will be months before Mirrin lets Jreen on another hunt!”

“Agh, shut up already, y’berk! D’you ever stop rattlin’ your bone-box?”

“Bone-box?” The talkative gnoll tilted his head, pondering. “No, Jreen left that at home.”

“That’s not wh’ I- Matt! C’mon, let me out already! Y’can’t make me stay with this furball! Can't take another hour o’this...”

“What is wrong with Jreen’s fur?” Scowling, the gnoll looked over his coat; completely colorless, pale enough to show the half-finished hyena tattoo upon his left arm.

D'Shyre stepped in, letting the door to the office close behind him, offering Cathra a bemused glance. “You know what you did, and you knew the consequences.”

“Y’don’t know I did nothin’. It’s prejudice, jus’ like every other time.”

Looking a tad hurt, D'Shyre frowned. “Prejudice? How long have I known you, Cathra?” With a quiet sigh, he added, “And besides; your name was on the bag.”

“...yeah, well...there’re lots o’Cathras. Might be Cathra...Jones.”

Turning to him from his corner, Jreen cocked his head and spoke up. “Jreen does not know why Jreen is here. You did not tell Jreen.”

D'Shyre sighed, rolling his eyes as he paced along the outside of the cell to stand before Jreen, while Cathra sulked against the wall. “You, lad, frightened three children at the market, and threatened a merchant with...eating his hands, I believe it was?”

With a quiet growl, Jreen climbed to his feet and approached the cell walls, standing his full six and a half feet tall - short for a gnoll, and not quite as threatening as it might be next to Cathra, but still giving him a good head on D'Shyre. Gripping the bars, he pushed right against them, staring down at the sheriff. “Jreen is being punished for negotiating? Jreen feels this is unfair. Jreen was simply doing his-” Stopping short, he cringed out of pure reflex from his error, every ounce of anger flowing from his stance as he fell back against the far wall. “Jreen’s job. Jreen is not him. Do not hit.”

He shook his head, taking a small step back himself. “You won’t be hit, Jreen. And yes, I know. But we don’t take to gnollish bartering here. Our town, our ways. Besides,” he continued, approaching the cell door with key out, “I have a deal for the both of you. I’m offering you another chance, Cathra.”

Glancing to D'Shyre, a look of shock passed over Cathra’s face for an instant, soon followed by a sharp grin, showing rows of glinting teeth. “Oh? Lemme guess: you want me to gut some berk, and then you’ll throw me back in, eh?”

He looked back to Cathra as he opened the door, entirely unimpressed. “No. This life won’t end well for you, Cathra; I’m giving you a chance to pull yourself out of it. To find that kid who wanted to be a dancer, an animal trainer, an adventurer.”

With a snort, Cathra stepped out from the cage, Jreen still too ill at ease to follow her out. “Spare me th’sermon, Matt. I get enough from Mother Elyssa. Ain’t no good jink in any o’that.”

“Maybe not. But there’s more to life than jink. Now come on. And you too, Jreen.”

Nodding submissively, Jreen slunk out, shoulders slumped as he kept a fair distance from the sheriff. Cathra watched, a moment of doubt in her eyes that soon hardened as she too fell into step behind D'Shyre, muttering under her voice too quiet to hear, “Ain’t no cutter want to see me dancin’ no ways.”

Comment unheard, D'Shyre led them both out and onto the street. “There’ve been some odd sightings a couple days from here, counterwards. Animals missing, or acting strangely. And there are a couple Law folks here wanting to check into it. Help them, and you’re free to go.” He lowers his voice, speaking to them both, but with a note of sympathy as he glanced over his shoulder towards Cathra. “And I’m trusting you both not to run.”

Cathra could only glance away from his gaze, but Jreen, having regained a bit of confidence, spoke up. “Jreen’s crime does not seem severe enough for indentured labor.”

“Not labor. Consider it a plea bargain.”

“Mm. Two days counterwards? The woods with red trees? Jreen knows them. Jreen’s hunting pack passed through. Animals may have been stirred up.”

“Possibly. But they still want to investigate directly. I’m taking you to meet them first, Jreen. And I’m taking Cathra to fulfill a favor.” He stopped, glancing into the tavern and confirming the two outsiders still waited within.

Brow furrowed in suspicion, Cathra spoke her next words with care. “What. Favor.”

D'Shyre threw a quick smirk at Cathra, before gesturing Jreen through the doorway. “Jreen, meet Inquisitor Regima and Lady Siderel. They can give you more details; we’ll be back shortly, after a quick stop at the smith.”

As soon as she heard the very first phoneme of “smith”, Cathra winced, following D'Shyre off out of habit as much as anything else. “No. ‘m not travelin’ with him! He’s...he’s...”

“Excitable?”

“He’s a soddin’ berk!”

“He’s also your closest friend.”

“Not sayin’ much, that.”

“Yes, well, he’ll help keep you in line if nothing else, hm?” Looking ahead, D'Shyre waved and called out. “Cairon! Good afternoon!”

Firing a bolt off at a nearby tree, Cairon Marast glanced back over his shoulder at the greeting, crossbow drooping. An extraordinarily average-looking lad just barely into adulthood, skin a light brown and hands marked with callouses and burns from years apprenticing in the forge, hardly anything seemed prominent about him, from his short-cut auburn hair to his bland, brown eyes, the only exception being the nose that gave him the look of a man who lost a fight with a wall.  He offered an abashed grin in return and returned the wave, jogging over to meet the two. “Afternoon, Mr. D’Shyre! I was...uh...just takin’ a little break.” With a quiet laugh, he scratched the back of his head. “Practicin’, you know? And hey, Cathra! Thought you were in jail or something?”

Cathra rubbed her eyes before shooting daggers at Cairon. “How’d you even know that?”

He just shrugged, the gaze attack not flagging his spirits a bit. “Just heard it, I guess. Y’were, then?”

Eager to change the subject, Cathra smirked. “An’ how’s that lizard o’yours?”

Thoughts of jail fled from Cairon’s mind and he grinned. “Oh, he’s fine! Around here somewhere too! I’ll get him!”

“...no, y’really don’t-”

Glancing about the grass, Cairon made a quick, shrill whistle; a moment later, he glanced down, carefully snatching a spotted gecko from the ground. Holding him out, he offered Cathra an utterly guileless smile. “C’mon, say hello. He’s missed you.”

Cathra could do little more than glare at the lizard, snorting at the ridiculousness of it all, forcing out words. “Hello, Samson.”

Pulling Samson back, Cairon transferred him to his shoulder, letting him crawl about as he often did. “So how was jail this time?”

Having been simply watching the pair up until now, D'Shyre smiled to Cairon. “That’s part of why I’m here. I offered Cathra a deal, and I do believe I promised to let you help on my next long-distance investigation?”

Cairon’s eyes widened in a moment as he let out a short cheer of glee. “Y’mean it? I’m gonna get t’head out on an adventure?”

“An investigation.”

“Six of one! Oh, thanks, Mr. D’Shyre! And Cathra’s goin’ too?”

“That’s why she’s not in jail right now. So, are you up to help-”

“Yes!”

Laughing, D'Shyre couldn’t help but grin at Cairon’s broad exuberance. “Good. You take Cathra over to the tavern; there’s a couple of Law-men waiting there to give you the details. They’re friendly sorts. Don’t let Cathra hassle them too much, eh?”

“Ah, pike it, Matt.”

At the tavern, Trasal and Tiana awaited one of D'Shyre's suggested aides; Tiana a bit more patiently than Trasal, the latter grumbling into his mug. “How can they get water wrong? Do they rinse these glasses? I can taste the soap.” Much as the Furies themselves, always observing, always judging. His ways not precisely in line with those of his Inquisition - his title perhaps more ad hoc than he would prefer nowadays - but still always following the lead of those he honors.

Glancing from across the table, Tiana tapped her finger lightly on the edge of her own drink, her hood drawn and braids tucked within so as to not draw too much attention from the locals; telling any others here that she was no one of note, no one to interfere or be interfered with. She neither stopped Trasal nor urged him to continue, knowing that he would eventually come to an end in his own course. Instead, she turned her attention outwards, meditating on her surroundings, observing the flow of fate about her as the locals went about one activity or another here. As Trasal embodied his Power, so too did Tiana embody Chronepsis. The flow of fate playing about all around her, needing yet no intervention. Ready to step in if one needs placed on the proper course, but not before.

Both waiting in their own way for things to continue, both interrupted in their own private, quiet worships (if one could call them that) by the arrival of a quite brash gnoll through the door, leading Trasal to once more wince, his voice low to Tiana. “A blasted gnoll? I’m suddenly much less certain of this sheriff’s suggestion.”

With an amused glint in her eye, Tiana glanced back across, motioning Jreen to join them at the table. Carefully stepping his way through the locals, he did his best not to jostle or trip the others, not wanting to be sent back to jail for some other human crime of “poor manners”.

“You’re late.” Trasal offered their guest a smile, as Tiana fixed her gaze upon him, all else falling away from her perception. “But not much.”

“Jreen apologizes. Jreen was only just-” He paused, staring back at Tiana for a moment before looking again to Trasal. “Why is Lady Paladin staring at Jreen?”

“Watchful eye, nothing more, my friend. You’re the troublemaker the sheriff offered us, then?”

Muttering briefly to himself in Abyssal, Jreen can’t help but offer a slight snarl; thankfully, neither of the two seem to react. “Jreen does not make trouble. Trouble was made that Jreen happened to be a part of. Jreen cannot be held responsible for cultural misunderstandings.”

Tiana relaxed her gaze, resting her hand on the tabletop and signing Trasal a quick word of approval. She nodded to Jreen, coming just short of smiling to him

“Fair, fair. And wasn’t there a second?”

“Yes, Cathra. Sheriff is taking Cathra to speak with another. Will be here soon.”

“Mm, good. Not a moment to waste, you see.” Glancing across with a wry twitch of her mouth, Tiana raises a brow just slightly, just enough to remind Trasal of forgotten introductions. “Ah, yes, my apologies myself, sir Jreen. I’m sure Sheriff D’Shyre already told you, but I am Trasal Regima, and my partner is Tiana Siderel. Don’t mind her silence too much; it hides a brilliant soul.”

“Jreen does not care. Jreen is supposed to help Trasal and Tiana, yes? What with?”

“Well, now, that would likely be better left until- ah, and here these two come, I imagine. Oh, tall one, isn’t she?” With a broad, open smile, Trasal waved Cathra and Cairon over from the door. “Here, my friends!”

Darting over just short of a run, Cairon took a seat near Jreen, as Cathra grumbled her way through behind, keeping Cairon between herself and the furball.

“Hi! You’re Sir Regima, and Lady Siderel? Mr. D’Shyre says you’re real knights? Oh wow, I’ve never met real knights before.”

Trasal chuckled quietly to Cairon as Cathra openly and blatantly rolled her eyes. “Not quite a knight, friend, but similar. Inquisitor. Now, then, as we’ve all been assembled, allow me to speak now why we’re in need of help. My partner and I have been following a number of ill omens for some days’ travel now.” Looking to Jreen in particular, he added, “You are a hunter, no? Haven’t you noticed the flocks of birds, the herds of squirrels all leaving?”

“Yes, usually animals are so calm around Jreen.”

A tad abashed, Trasal sat back in his chair. “Well, there’s a bit more to it than just that.”

“What’s th’big deal, anyways?” With a look of total disinterest, Cathra picked at a claw, tail lazily swishing along the floorboards. “So some animals’re goin’ barmy. So what?”

Trasal sighed, taking a moment to re-gather his thoughts. “The animals alone are not the concern. It is what these signs portend. My friend has more skill at reading the course of things than I, and she insists that there is something driving these events.”

Cathra raised a brow towards Tiana, scoffing. “Blondie’s insistin’? She even know how to talk? Matt said she’s got some speakin’ problem.”

Tiana returned the look, clearly unimpressed. Quietly, she spoke, drawing Trasal’s interest as she did. “Yes. And you have no choice. Duty calls you, and you will answer. The sooner, the easier.” Her piece spoken, she returned to silence, to watching the three.

Jreen, for his part, sneered at the comment. “Jreen always has a choice. Jreen could go with Trasal and Tiana. Jreen could return to jail. Jreen could escape and find pack. Jreen has a duty already, and it is not quiet paladin’s duty.”

“All right, all right. Let me put it to you plainly, then.” Trasal leaned forward, his patience starting to wane. “We’re offering you freedom in exchange for a very simple task. Guide us to the woods where your sheriff has claimed recent odd activity, guide us back, and you two are free and clear. Even if nothing happens? You’re off, free to do what you’d like.”

“C’mon, Cathra.” Cairon offered Cathra a pleading look, the impact only dampened a bit by the gecko climbing out of his shirt and onto his shoulder, getting a glance about the room. “It’ll be fun! And you’ll get t’get outta havin’ to sit in that cell for another week like last time, right?”

As much as Cairon was right, Cathra couldn’t admit that; grumbling, she leaned back, arms crossed. “Fine, fine. Wha’ever. We’ll go check out the squirrels. Happy, Cai’?”

“Yes! And you are too, I bet.” With a grin, he nudged her with his elbow, ignoring the fanged snarl entirely; she hadn’t bitten him in years, after all.

“And Jreen will come too. Jreen would rather not be in jail either.” He looked to Tiana, eyes narrowed. “Because it is Jreen’s choice.”

Trasal stood with a slam of his palms on the table, grinning to the lot of them. “Good! Then let us step out to speak with the sheriff; I’m sure we have things to do to make this official.”

The rest of the group stood soon after, Cairon keeping right at Trasal’s side as he rambled on. “Oh! Never said, I’m Cairon! ‘m the smith’s son, in training for that, an’- oh, I need to tell Da’ I’ll be...”

As they left, the tavern, Tiana held back for but a moment, arranging her thoughts in the aftermath of her first meetings with Cathra and Jreen, Cairon a mere afterthought for now. Rebelliousness vs. obstinacy; both with their own troubles towards fate, but neither something she hadn’t been trained to deal with. Just as she prepared to leave, though, she noted a figure approaching from the bar, a lizardfolk watching her with clouded eyes.

“Excuse me,” Jazaka said, “but I couldn’t help but overhear.” She pulled herself to her full height, nearly a foot above that of Tiana; less so out of any desire to intimidate, as her stance made clear, than out of acknowledgement of the importance of what was to come. “You mentioned much of omens and portents. I do believe we ought to speak some, miss.”

Even with her control, Tiana couldn’t help but crook her mouth in a half-smile at the irony - the blind wishing to speak with the silent - but some signs are more obvious than others. And when fate brings something to you, you would be a fool to ignore it. With a nod, clear enough that Jazaka would be able to recognize the gesture, she guided her to her table and sat beside her. Her voice still quiet, she spoke for a second time today, a rarity for her in such a public setting. “Please. I would never ignore the word of an oracle on such matters.”

While D'Shyre took Jreen to return his confiscated gear, Cairon made his way back to the smith and his family home, Cathra griping to him just a step behind. “Y’know nothin’s gonna happen on this trip, right? What’re you so excited about anyway, y’berk?”

“Oh c’mon, Cathra; that’s what everyone says before they go on a real adventure! You know it’s gonna be excitin’ when you’ve got someone complainin’ that it’s gonna be boring.”

Cathra took a moment to think that comment over, trying to work through before giving up. “Pfah. Y’r as barmy as the animals, Cairon.”

“You need to read more, Cath!”

“Do not. I’ve got street smarts.”

“Street smarts didn’t tell you Samson was a gecko, did they?” Petting Samson as he clung to his arm, Cairon chuckled. “You thought he was just alizard .”

“Yeah, but I know important stuff. Like makin’ jink.”

“And stayin’ outta jail?” He smirked, unable to stop himself from needling her.

“...Sod off.”

With a soft laugh, Cairon stopped, nodding to the house just ahead.. “You wanna come in? Say hi?”

Silent for a moment, hugging herself, Cathra scowled. “Nah. Y’know they don’t like me. None of ‘em do.”

“Aw, that’s not true. Mum was gonna teach you to bake, remember?”

“...Yeah, ‘round...what, 6 years ago? 7?”

“Still counts! You’re the one who said no.”

Cathra snickered. “Nah. I said I’d rather screw a Dustie in a back alley.” As Cairon stammered, she plucked an apple out a nearby barrel, taking a bite between chuckles.

Shaking his head, Cairon sighed. “Fine. You gonna talk to Mother Elyssa before you go, then?”

“Ugh, no.” With a firm shake of her head, she squeezed the apple a bit harder than intended, cursing briefly at the juice now dripping from claw marks onto her hands. She wiped her hand on her tunic, keeping her attention firmly fixed on that. “Matt’ll tell her what’s goin’ on. I’d rather get preached at comin’ back than headin’ out. I’ll just meet you back at th’square, eh?”

“Sure. Won’t be long!”

Running up to the house, Cairon spotted his youngest sister, Zara, playing in the yard. She glanced up with a grin, scrambling back to her feet and rushing forward to hug Cairon.

“Guess what, Zara?” Lifting her in his arms, he gave her a short toss into the air, bringing forth wild laughter as he carefully caught her on the way down. “I’m off out on an adventure !”

“Really? Where?”

“Out into the woods! There’ve been animals actin’ barmy, and we’re gonna find out why! Cathra’s going too even! An’ a gnoll bloke, an’ a couple knights!”

“Oh, wow! Are you gonna find any treasure? Or fight a demon?”

“You bet I am!” Setting her back on the ground, he knelt down to her level. “I’ll be so rich, I’ll be able t’buy the whole village, I bet. And I’ll even bring some back for you too. Which do you want, the treasure or the demon?”

Giggling, she gave his arm a light punch. “Treasure!”

“Alright, then; I’ll bring you some brilliant treasure so you can get rich too. Sound fair?”

“Yeah!”

“So I’ll be gone for a few days. Gonna bring my crossbow too! Told you all that practicin’ was for a good reason.”

Falling quiet, Zara looks off past Cairon to the tree where he practiced his shooting so often. More subdued, she said, “Are you gonna be alright?”

“‘Course I am! I’m your big brother, ain’t I?” Smiling, he hugged her once more, patting her back. “Nothin’s gonna happen to me, right?”

Not very reassured, she nodded absently, gripping at his shirt. “Promise?”

“I promise, Zara. I’ll see you in a few days, and I’ll tell you all about my adventures.” Pulling back, he ruffled her hair with a crooked grin. “Now where’s Hanna?”

Smiling back, a bit more at ease, she still managed to sigh. “She’s in her room, still angry ‘bout something.”

“I’ll go talk to her, then.” He stood, starting for the front door. “Love ya, kid! Stay out of the forge while I’m gone, right?”

“Love you too! And I will!”

Still grinning, Cairon entered the house, passing through the small entryway and down the back hall towards Hanna’s room; closed, as usual when she’s in one of her moods. He knocked, and after a moment with no response, knocked again.

From inside, voice muffled, he heard a shout. “Go away!”

“C’mon, let me in, Hanna. I need to talk to ya. I’m gonna be late if you hold me up!”

With an exasperated sigh just barely audible from within, he heard the quiet stomps of footsteps up towards the door just before it swung open, his sister -- also younger, if only by two years -- glaring up towards him.

Hoping to mend fences, Cairon offered her a slim smile. “So...I’m gonna be away for a few days. Goin’ on an adventure, even!” At the slight eyeroll from Hanna, he said, “I am! Takin’ m’crossbow and everythin’. So...I’m sayin’ goodbye to everyone. Includin’ you.”

“Fine.” Turning away, she prepared to shut the door; not quite up to slamming it, at least.

“Oi, you’re not gonna say bye to me? It’s gonna be dangerous!” His tone turning teasing, he stepped forward just enough to keep it open, poking her shoulder. “What if I died, after all?”

Shrugging off the poke, Hanna went back to one of the room’s two beds, flopping onto it in a huff. “Wouldn’t have t’share a room with Zara anymore, then. An’ wouldn’t get yelled at for stupid stuff.”

“Oh, you deserved gettin’ yelled at an’ you know it.” Unable to help himself, he grinned and continued, “An’ you share a room ‘cause you’re only a baby anyway.”

Sitting up just enough to give Cairon a glare, she nearly growled. “I am not!”

“All right, all right...” Cairon took a small step back, knowing he may have pushed her a little too far. “Look, you can’t jus’ borrow my stuff an’ thenbreak it. It’s mine, I worked for it, an’ you know that.”

Flipping over onto her stomach, Hanna grumbled into her pillow. “I didn’t break it on purpose.”

“Yes you di-” Cairon cut himself off, stopping the fight before it picked up yet again, rubbing his face with one hand.  “That’s not th’ point. Now come on, you’ll miss me, right?” He moved to the bed, squatting beside it.

After a long pause, Hanna looked up from the pillow, back over her shoulder towards Cairon. “...I’m takin’ your room while you’re gone too.”

With another sigh, Cairon stood quickly. “You are not. If you so much as set foot into it...”

“I’m gonna and you can’t stop me!”

“Yes I can, you little cow!”

“Ugh! Jus’ get out already!”

“Fine!” Leaving the room as his ire peaked, Hanna jumping again off the bed to usher him out, he kept ranting. “But if my room even looks like someone’s been in i-” The door slammed behind him, and Cairon could hear her stalk back to her bed. Spinning on the door, he yelled through it. “I’m not gonna miss you, you smelly little berk!”

Hanna shouted from inside, “I won’t miss you either!”

Utterly exasperated, Cairon couldn’t help but add “Well why don’t you just pike it, then!” Before he could continue further, though, the voice of Margot, his mother, emerged from behind him, taking him by surprise as she so often did for the three of them.

“She doesn’t mean that. And I know you don’t either.” She gave him a patient, if half-amused, smile. Tall and well-built, the signs of decades of work alongside her husband in the forge showed well on her, with a brashness in her tone she’d never even dream of holding back.

The anger draining from Cairon, his shoulders slumped and he frowned, gaze tracing along the grain of the floorboards. “I might. You don’t know.”

“Don’t I?” With a small squeeze of his shoulders, she offered him the slightest of grins, and the silence of his response was answer enough. Stepping back towards the sitting area where he’d completely failed to notice her, she returned to her chair, book again resting in her lap. “So, you’re going on an adventure, hm?”

His cheeks turning a golden pink, Cairon again found himself intrigued by the paths of the wood grain, taking a moment before speaking up. “I was goin’ to tell you, really! I thought...maybe if you told dad, he wouldn’t start on about responsibilities an’ all that.”

She smirked, shaking her head slightly. “Oh, he just cares about you.”

“I know, but...” He trailed off for a moment before grinning broadly, his excitement making his next words nearly a laugh. “Mum, I’m gonna go out on an adventure!”

She returned the grin in nearly full force, if with a glint of worry in her eye. “You’ll be careful, yes?”

“‘Course! Won’t be alone either; there’s Cathra, and a few others goin’ too. An’ I’ve been practicin’ that crossbow for I don’t know how long. I’m ready!”

“Are you sure, Cairon?”

“...’course I’m sure.” His tone belied his words, if a bit, but he shook it off soon enough. “‘Sides, even if I wasn’t, I’m gettin’ on a bit, yeah? I’ll be takin’ over the forge full-time soon ‘nough, an’ then I’ll never be able to adventure.”

Laughing mildly, Margot sighed. “I suppose that’s true enough.”

Cairon fell quiet, turning back towards Hanna’s door, about to step towards it again before he stopped himself. Looking back to his mother, he sighed. “...could you keep Hanna out of my room while I’m gone, Mum? An’...an’ I’ll say sorry to her when I get back. I will. I jus’...need a few days to not be angry anymore.”

“Mm. So does she, I think.”

“Yeah...”

“I still think you should see your father off yourself, though. You know he’ll worry even worse if you don’t.”

Taking a long breath, Cairon finally nodded. “Mm...yeah. I’ll go an’ find him.” Stepping quickly up to her, he gave her a long hug, smiling. “Love you, Mum.”

She gave him a strong squeeze before letting go, somewhat aglow with pride even as she worried for what was to come. “I love you too, kid.”

Cathra approached the jailhouse, feeling free -- with so few others around -- to show a bit of the nerves hitting her. Just for a moment, though, before her facade fell back into place as she stomped up the steps. “If I’m goin’ on this job, I want my stuff back, old man! All o’ it! You’d better not’ve nicked any o’it!”

Glancing up from his writing, D'Shyre reached to the pack at his side, tossing it to Cathra. “Here. It’s all there but the darkmoss.”

Freezing up for a moment, Cathra’s tail flicked behind her as she snorted, digging through the bag. “Don’t know what y’mean. Someone must’ve planted somethin’ on me.”

“Mm.” He leaned back in his chair, face inscrutable.

Checking the edges of her katars for nicks, she dropped into the chair opposite him, tail sliding easily between seat and backrest thanks to years of practice and pain. “Never even heard o’darkmoss. What is it, some kinda elfy food?”

He kept silent, watching with arms crossed as she checked over her goods. The silence grew until she finally felt near-compelled to puncture it, glancing up from her knife with a pointed stare. “...I’m not usin’ it.”

“I know. You’re selling it to bored farmers. How do you think I found out?”

“Hmph.” Pushing the chair with a loud squeak towards the wall, she leaned back and against it, feet propped on D'Shyre’s desk with ankles crossed. “Not hurtin’ anyone, so what d’you care? Not like there’s any real laws t’break out here.”

“Because I know where it could go.”

“An‘ why d’you keep tryin’ to tell me what to do with my life anyway?” Her eyes narrowed, her expression flashing with anger as she dropped her bag at her side. “I don’t remember you tellin’ me what t’do back when I was best in my class, but when I do something you don’t approve of, tha’ makes you right an’ me wrong?”

D'Shyre just gave her a silent look, waiting for her rage to fade some before speaking again. “What about you? Do you approve of it?”

“Does it matter? I know what the people here think of me. I know what Cass thought o’me.” She stares at her hands, picking at the base of one hand’s claw with another.

D'Shyre watched her, frowning. “I know what I think of you.” He shook his head, sighing quietly before adding, “Say goodbye to Mother Elyssa before you go, all right? She’s been worried about you.”

Another silence set in for a long moment, before she finally spoke again. “Why’re you talkin’ like I’m...” She shook her head, legs dropping back to the ground as she leaned in towards D'Shyre. “I’m gonna leave. After this. You got it? I’m sick o’ Broadshire. Sick o’ all o’ you.”

He could only respond with a sad smile, shaking his head. “Whatever you think, some of us will miss you. So I hope it won’t be for good.”

With a harrumph, she stood, grabbing the sack and flinging it over her shoulder in a smooth motion. “Don’t count on it. See you around, sod.” With a rude gesture flung over her shoulder with her free hand, she stepped out, a small wince where D'Shyre wouldn’t see. As a usually-quiet part of her mind tugged at her insistently, she glanced towards the small church and schoolhouse where she’s kept kip for the last 8 years, and against her worst judgement started off towards it.

Cairon could hear the clang of metal as soon as he stepped outside, starting across the field towards their family’s forge. Rehearsing in his head what to say, he quietly steps into the open-air workshop where his father, William, worked a blade, checking the results of his repair work before submerging it to temper.

“Dad?”

“Hm?” He looked up from his work, just barely cracking a smile at the sight of Cairon. He was a surprisingly slight man, near half a foot shorter than his wife, with hair just barely starting to grey. “Ah, Cairon. Ready to get started on Ben’s horseshoes?”

“...oh, Ben’s...” All preparation tumbled from Cairon’s mind as nerves struck him; for a moment, he nearly felt as though he’d forgotten how to speak entirely before finally recovering himself. “I...actually, Dad, y’see...so Mr. D’Shyre came by earlier while I was practicing. The sheriff, you know?”

William gave him a long-suffering smirk and the slightest of nods. “I know.”

“Oh...of course you do. Right. So...y’see, he asked me to...so there are all these animals goin’ barmy, and he’s...he’s sendin’ folk out to ‘ave a look. An’...an’ I’m one of ‘em.”

“...I see.” His smirk faded and he fell quiet, appraising his son. “And what about the horseshoes.”

“I...right, well...I thought maybe you c-” He stopped himself immediately at the furrow of his father’s brow. “No, no, that’s stupid. I could...I could do ‘em when I...get back?”

“Mm. You’re not always going to be able to put your job off on someone else, Cairon.”

“Dad, I know! I...it’s not like I’m always pushin’ off work on other folk. It’s jus’...well, Mr. D’Shyre came by and asked me to go. It’s just this once, an’...an’ then that’s it.”

Still silent, William stood, having to look up ever so slightly to meet his son’s eyes. Cairon couldn’t help but fidget some, but he held his ground, returning the look with surprising confidence.

“How long will you be gone?”

“...A few days. I mean...I’m not sure really, but...at least two or three days.”

“Mm.”

“...an’ I’ll never complain again, Dad. Promise. Jus’ let me go out this once an’ I’ll come back an’ I’ll never ask for somethin’ again.”

Thinking matters over for a long second, Cairon’s father nodded. “All right.”

Cairon broke into a broad grin, and it was all he could do to not bounce in place. “Really?”

“But you’d better come back safe. And I’m telling Ben to wait on the shoes. You’re finishing them when you get home.”

“Oh I promise I will, Dad!” Bounding forward, Cairon pulled his father into a tight hug, which he returned just as tightly with a laugh. “An’ I’ll bring you back somethin’, all right?”

“Mmph.” Pulling back, he smiled to Cairon. “Just have fun, all right? And do good. Impress him.”

“I will!” Laughing, he began backwards out from the forge, charging off towards the town square. “An’ I’ll finish the shoes when I get back!”

Waving Cairon off, he sighed once he was out of earshot, still smiling from Cairon’s infectious enthusiasm. And once he could no longer see his son as he turned behind the neighbor’s house, he returned to his work, thoughts of Cairon’s future passing absently through his mind.

As Tiana approached the square, gently leading Jazaka through the streets -- their talk having been quite fruitful -- Trasal paced along the cobblestones, throwing the occasional glance to Jreen as he napped huddled up beneath a recent storefront. Only ten minutes earlier, he’d been up and active, finishing a full steak (legally purchased this time, and without any threats) in a mere three bites, resting now as it settled. With what could easily make for his tenth sigh since departing the tavern interrupted by the surprisingly quiet clank of Tiana’s well-oiled plate, Trasal glanced up to the two approaching women, smiling in gratitude that he’s no longer to watch his charge alone. “Ah, and who might this lovely lizard be?”

Jazaka inclined her head towards Trasal while Tiana gave Jreen a curious glance, offering him a smile of her own, well-practiced from years around mammals. “Jazaka. Tiana’s told me quite a bit, and I’d like to offer my own services to aid you both. A bit of magic, but I’m well-trained in the arts of natural medicine.” She laughed quietly, frill rustling in amusement. “Far too unappreciated an art, if you ask me. Would you approve?”

A bit surprised, if pleasantly so, Trasal glanced to Tiana, who returned his look with a subtle nod. He looked again to Jazaka, lingering a bit on her clouded eyes, but after hardly a moment he grinned. “I’d never say no to a medic or a volunteer. How soon could you depart? We’re still waiting on two of our number, but I’d rather leave soon as they arrive if possible.”

“Oh, no worries on that; I’m as ready to go as you.”

“Wonderful! Then we only need-”

“‘m here, ‘m here. Hold on t’your britches.” Cathra, turning the corner around a nearby building, scowled almost instantly towards Trasal. She glanced briefly to Jazaka, but with a snort, quickly lost interest. Shifting the weight of the pack over one shoulder, she looked about the square, smirking. “Beat th’berk here, looks? Heh, prob’ly busy gettin’ all weepy. Might be too torn up t’go, even. Maybe we ought just go without him, eh?”

“Oh, we’re not in near enough of a rush for that , I think. Jazaka, this is Cathra; she’ll be coming along too.” Oblivious to Cathra’s attitude (or at least giving a good facsimile of such), Trasal stared off towards the smith, spying Cairon heading quickly towards them. “In fact, Cathra, I do believe he’s coming now. Tiana, if you could stir our furry friend?”

With another silent nod, Tiana knelt beside Jreen. Watching him for a long moment, head slightly tilted, she reached out with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes and gave his forehead a quick, sharp flick, right at its center. Snapping awake, Jreen stared at her with a nervous cringe for just a moment before scrambling up to his feet. “Jreen is awake!”

Absently rubbing his forehead, not entirely sure what happened, he looked towards Trasal offering introductions about the group. “Ah, Jreen’s companions are about to go! Good, Jreen could use the exercise after lunch.” With one quick motion, he hefted his own bulky pack from the ground beside him and pulled it over either arm, giving the entire party a wide, tooth-filled grin. “Jreen is ready!”

“Good!” With a smile, Trasal steps towards the town exit, taking the lead. “Then we shall be off, to adventure!,” he added, to which Tiana and Cathra alike could only roll their eyes.

Chapter Text

The second of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

The last two days had been full of chatter, a quite new experience to Tiana; she’d thought that traveling with Trasal alone was at times an effort in patience, but with Cairon and Jreen alongside, it was an entirely different matter. Not to mention Cathra’s snark at anything that didn’t meet her standards. Which, as far as she’s been able to tell, was just about every aspect of nature a soul can imagine. Jazaka, at least, had been a calming presence to aid in her balance. Though hardly silent herself, her words tended to be brief and pointed, well-aimed to deflate conflict, or to tease the more excitable.

As the second evening of their travel approached, Tiana paused in removing her armor and relaxed against a tree, letting her eyes fall closed as she took a moment to absorb the sounds of nature about her while the others were too occupied arranging the night’s campsite to chatter. Nearly drifting off from the peace of it all, her focus was suddenly broken by a sharp invective from Cathra as she and Cairon found yet another subject to argue about. With a quiet sigh, she returned to shucking her armor from her form; likely for the best, given past memories of falling asleep armored and the aches that came the next day.

“Difficult companions, no?” Approaching softly from behind, Jazaka chuckled, skirts swishing along the grass as she settled next to the tree, hand resting on it just enough to remind herself it was there. She eased herself down the tree into a crouch beside Tiana, tail stretched out well behind her. “Sometimes I’ve wondered how they even have time for a breath.”

Tiana looked towards her for just a moment before offering a laugh of her own, unclasping her breastplate and setting it aside. Standing herself to work the rest of her armor free, she turned back to watch the other four -- Trasal sighing and watering his rosewood armor, Cathra glaring to Jreen as he and Cairon snickered over whatever comment the gnoll had just made. In quiet tones interrupted by the occasional grunt over a stuck fastener, she spoke, lip just barely curled in a subtle smile. “They certainly make the journey...interesting, if naught else.”

“How very diplomatic.” Outright chortling, Jazaka leaned her head against the trunk, taking in the last glimmers of the day before her vision dimmed entirely for the night. “The benefits of schooling on the Mount?”

Tiana’s eyes widened briefly and her smile broadened as she finally removed the last of her armor, sinking back down to rest again alongside Jazaka. “Not quite. How did you know, though?”

Jazaka’s eyes slipped closed with the dusk. “Oh, no great skill, I promise you. I’d traveled with a Celestian before; you have a similar accent.”

“I do? I hardly thought I had one at all.”

“If it helps, I rarely hear it.” Jazaka’s head bobbed briefly in amusement, and Tiana couldn’t help but smile at that herself.

“No, not- well, upbringing. But not schooling. I was brought up to believe that a harsh word is unneeded when a kind one will do.” She added with a lilt of good humor, “And guided by my faith to see that a word is unneeded when silence will do.”

Trepidatious, Jazaka opened her eyes, turning her head to Tiana’s general direction. “I haven’t led you to violate a vow, I hope?”

Tiana shook her head with a single motion, taking her breastplate into her lap to scrub free the dust and dirt of the day. “No vow. Simply a view.”

Relieved, Jazaka nodded, once more resting her eyes. “Mm. Interesting. I may ask you more later, if you don’t mind the questions.”

With a slight hum of amusement, she glanced to Jazaka. “If I’m allowed same?”

“...perhaps. I’ll consider it; I’m not certain it would be of the same value for you.”

She nodded once more, and the two fell into a silence for the rest of the evening, as the voices of the others carried across the small encampment.

Chapter Text

The fourth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Still soaking wet from the afternoon shower that came and went some hours ago, Cathra grumbled, quickly having tired of the two-day hike that brought them here. If it wasn’t for the woods having finally come into view just before the rain, she would’ve been just as happy to abandon the whole thing, but even she couldn’t justify it to herself now. Shuddering in her leathers, she cursed at the clouds ahead, at the daylight for not drying her sooner, at Jreen for simply grinning at her “wet dog” jab, at Cairon for being Cairon, and at the very concept of water itself. Not individually, of course, but all in an endless stream running through her head that occasionally erupted out in a sharp “soddin’” or “pikin’” or other such remark.

Trasal and Tiana kept at the lead of the group, each watching the trees and attempting to pick out any sign of the omens about the area, with Jazaka near them both and aiding as she could, leaving Cairon and his seeming new best friend to yammer on just near her. Her last nerve finally frayed by an especially loud bark of laughter from Jreen, she snarled to them both, “Can you berks shut your bone-boxes for one second! Gods!”

While Jreen looked a bit abashed, Cairon (as always) simply smiled, chuckling quietly. “Sorry, Cathra. Just...excitin’, isn’t it?”

“And it’s about to grow even more so, friend,” Trasal said as he paused at the edge of the copse, appraising its lightly-shadowed interior; the canopy just clear enough to let the light of mid-day through in beams.

Cairon shifted the crossbow strap across his chest, getting himself ready to draw it for real for the first time. “So who wants to go in first?”

Cathra frowned, shrugging, doing her best to ignore the water still trapped beneath her armor. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with, eh? Sooner we’re done, sooner I can be gone.”

For just a moment, Cairon looked a bit downcast at the reminder of Cathra’s plans. Before he could say more, he was interrupted by a comment by Jreen, looking to the two erstwhile leaders of their group. “Jreen thinks Tiana; has shield. No one else does.”

In a slight huff, Cathra rolled her eyes and started ahead on her own. Tiana and Trasal followed close behind, her shield readied. Jazaka chuckled under her breath towards the two, smiling. “It’s just a forest, Cairon and Jreen. Come.”

“I’m not scared or nothin’,” Cairon insisted, following the others in at Jreen’s side as he snickered. “Was just askin’ a question.”

Walking two abreast through the trees, the group pressed ahead in silence. Minutes passed, and Jreen was the first to note the sound that’d returned after two days of uneasy silence, ears perked in surprise. “Jreen hears...animals. Chipmunks. But something odd about sound.”

Trasal nodded slowly. “So there are...” Closing his eyes, he thought over what he was hearing, noticing the same as Jreen. After a long moment, he spoke again. “It’s the same sounds. Again and again.”

“Hm?” Jazaka had soon grown more uneasy than she expected at the surroundings she brushed off so easily, unused to much anything but open marshes or warm buildings. So distracted by the shadows surrounding them and the trees she kept finding herself brushing against, she hardly even noticed it herself, but at their comments she focused on the sounds about them. “Ah...yes, it is, isn’t it? A bit...discomforting. An illusion, perhaps?”

Tiana shakes her head. “Real.” About to continue, she cut herself off, raising her shield in readiness as a spot of motion through the trees catches her eye. Spying the same, Cathra hopped and clambered up the nearest tree, vanishing into the leaves, as each brought their weapons to bear; Cairon his crossbow, Jreen his spear, Jazaka her hanbo. Trasal stood as the only to not show arms, though his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he leaned on his cane.

Brushing aside the brush with her blade, Tiana revealed an odd mass of life. Chipmunks, yes; one or two dozen, in fact, tumbling and gamboling about and atop one another, each precisely identical to the others. Tiana stopped short at the unexpected sight, scowling at the obvious unnatural behavior, and glanced deadpan to Trasal, who nodded as he drew a slim blade from his cane.

Cairon looked in confusion, starting to speak - “What’re they do-” - as Tiana slashed her blade in a quick downward chop into the mass. Fearing a sudden bloodbath, Cairon winced for a moment, only to grow shocked as two of the beasts began to shimmer and rise into the air, transforming from small rodents to feathered serpents, winding through the air with the sun glinting off their pale-blue scales and the air shimmering about their forms.

“...is that what’s been drivin’ the animals away?” Cairon quickly fumbles to load his crossbow, gaze torn between his efforts and the odd creatures. At one side, Jreen held his spear up, watching and learning their movements; at the other, Jazaka began her own silent contemplation, reaching her mind out to the beasts of the planes.

Tiana circled about the two in time with Trasal, the two moving nearly as one, each swing of her blade and thrust of his timed with precision. Without breaking step, Tiana threw a quick glance to Cairon. “Voidworms. Chaos creatures. Possibly?” For once, she seemed a bit irritated, as the beasts wove through their every strike.

With a quick laugh from overhead, Cathra pounced down at one, knives clicking out from the heels of her boots as she spun a quick kick into its side, bringing forth a spurt of azure blood from the sudden wound and a strange, almost bubbly cry. “Then let’s kill ‘em so we can get outta-!”

Her last word was cut off by a sudden shriek that nearly made her leap right back to the tree; as Jazaka pointed to the wounded worm, a bloodhawk manifested in the air behind her shoulder, appearing mid-swoop to grasp and tear it in its talons before dropping the rent corpse in the dirt. As it curved around to rest upon her shoulder, Cairon finally managed to get his crossbow loaded and drawn, leveling it at the last...only to be interrupted by a sudden sharp throw from Jreen, pinning the second dead against a tree in a single blow.

“There. Chaos worms are dead.”

Cairon could only just stare at the pinned corpse, agape, as Jreen walked up to it to pull his spear free. “You...but...” Finally, he broke forth with laughter, walking up to clap Jreen on the back. “Tha’ was amazin’! You just...wow! An’ all the rest of you too! An’ Jazaka!” He whirled about, carefully unloading his bow in the process, watching as the summoned bird on her shoulder was dismissed and vanished back to its home. “What even was that? Was that magic? Never seen nothin’ but healin’ before!”

Frills spreading in a bit of pride, Jazaka bowed her head just slightly. “I’d never tried that before, in fact, but it seemed like the thing to do; a hunter to strike prey.”

“D’you know what kind of animal it was? Never seen the like around here!”

“Ah...I wouldn’t know. A bird of prey, of course, but I simply called for aid.”

Trasal, sheathing his cane, grinned. “A bloodhawk. Native of the battlefields of Acheron; quite some ways away, that plane. Impressive spellwork, friend.”

“You know it? Can y’tell me ab...out...” Peering past Trasal, Cairon finally caught sight of Jreen in mid-gulp, swallowing the blood of the voidworm straight from the pierced corpse. “...um...what’re y’doin’, mate? Are you sure you should be-”

Whirling on Cairon, his eyes aglow with a blue tinge, Jreen’s left eye twitched. “Jreen would advise against goop of eating while tasty in rotten meat blueberry way Jreen thinks has poor aftertaste which could be due to monohydraphatawrasafbluh in the blood.” As soon as his final word was uttered, he collapsed to his knees and began to pull together twigs, arranging them together as his eyes widened further than they ought.

“...that man is mad, but he’ll be fine.” Trasal shook his head, sighing. “Touched for a time by the chaos of Limbo, the home of these worms. It will fade soon enough.”

“Hmph. He’s barmy is what he is.” Cathra peered about, trying to spy the others of the mass, as she crouched down to re-sheath her boot-blades. “So where’re the rest? Let’s get ‘em before it’s dark so we can wrap this up, eh?” Scooping up a rock, she whipped it into a nearby bush, scowling as no chipmunks scrambled out for her to grab.

Tiana watched Jreen’s mad efforts with some detachment before looking back to Jazaka. “Pests to kill. But not the omen. Agreed?”

“Agreed. This was small. Hardly worth notice, almost, even the lot of them.”

“Mm.” Trasal, stepping up to the two of them, nodded in agreement himself as he sheathed his sword-cane. “Voidworms are an annoyance, nothing more. It’s strange to find them here, though. We’re Chaosward here, yes, but not that far; it would’ve been days for them to migrate this far, and wouldn’t have been a comfortable flight.”

Tiana smirked to Trasal as her eyes flickered violet for just a moment, leaving her aware of the vibrations of disorder. “Good.”

He laughed himself, nodding. “Easier to track, yes. See what you can find? And Jazaka, if you sense more, be certain to tell us.”

Apart from the three, Cathra stood, starting to feel annoyed again; four rocks, and not a single animal.

“Dunno if we can scare them out, Cathra. Maybe I ought let Samson down to ‘ave a look? Bit small for this sort of thing, though...” Nearly on cue, the small gecko crawled his way out of Cairon’s pack at the sound of his name, staring back at Cathra with reptilian apathy.

“Hmph. Y’mean he’s lazy.”

“Lazy? Samson’s the most hard-workin’ gecko there is. He works harder’n you.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she stomped over to the brush, shaking it madly. “What’s that even mean?”

“Good point; there’s rocks work harder’n you.” He grinned, pleased with himself.

“He doesn’t even do anything, just eat an’ sleep!”

“Ha! Shows what you know.” Cairon rubbed Samson under the chin gently, not even favoring Cathra with a glare at that. “I’ve trained ‘im to fetch things.”

“Flies don’t count.” She squatted down at what seemed like a burrow, giving a brief shout into its opening; nothing.

“They do! An’ anyway, not jus’ flies. Keys an’ bits of wood an’ stuff. We’re workin’ on hammers next!”

Giving Cairon an utterly blank-faced look, Cathra stood, sighing. Seeing Tiana intent on a certain direction, she scurried over behind her, choosing to ignore the dumb blacksmith and his dumb lizard for the moment.

Watching the subtle auric signatures hanging wispily in the air, Tiana stepped cautiously; it’s not the path to the others, but it is the path they took here to begin with. They all seemed to have come from the same direction, a fact that piqued her interest almost immediately; a portal, perhaps? Turning back, she quickly rapped the flat of her blade against her shield in a single quick strike to get the attention of the others, before nodding over her shoulder and resuming her cautious stride. They all soon fell in behind her to varying degrees of silence; even Jreen, his mind cleared, as he peered at his carefully-constructed perfect 3:1 scale model of a twig with some confusion.

The group walked along for some minutes - Trasal helping to guide Jazaka around the roots and snags, Cairon reassuring Samson that Cathra would never really eat him as she slipped into the shadows to avoid the entire situation, Jreen bottling a sample of voidworm blood and adding it to a number of other powders and substances in his pack - before they caught sound of conversation ahead. Tiana, not even waiting for word from the others, charged off, sword readied and intent on dealing with this threat to law, with the others lagging behind only just. In mere moments, they emerged from the far end of the copse and into the daylight, their vision taking time to adjust and giving them a brief chance to take in the scene: a merchant’s wagon loaded with a dozen and a half cages, about half holding pairs of voidworms, and two young men; both human, and both very drunk.

As Tiana burst forth, armor glinting in the light, the two cried out; one in shock at the sudden charge, startling him to the point of dropping his bottle to the ground, half spilling out onto the grass, the other in pain as Cathra slipped from the trees behind him with katars drawn, striking him in the side before he could do much of anything.

Gripping his side, the drunk lad stares in utter panic back at Cathra, fangs bared in a slim grin, blood dripping from the edge of her blade. “Who are you?” he cried, stumbling back against the wagon and sending the cages rattling.

Tiana held her hand to the others and stepped forward, casting her gaze at each of them in turn with narrowed eyes, pointing her sword briefly towards the empty cages before leveling it at the wounded of the two.

“Th...th’ voidworms? We didn’t...we just came down from Xaos...thought we’d stir things up a bit...”

After a moment’s silence, Tiana nodded to him to continue, sword unwavering, as her companions looked on, some still, others antsy.

“...they’re just voidworms, they’re...they’re playful, but they wouldn’t hurt anyone. Just a prank, eh?” He laughed, nervous, before again gripping the slash along his side.

Watching him idly, interest lost with their surrender, Jreen said to the others, “Jreen thinks human should be tended to. Corpses make poor slaves.”

Tiana glanced over her shoulder to Jreen for just a moment, brow briefly furrowed, before stepping up to the wounded man, sheathing her sword as she approached; as she drew closer, Trasal watched them both with a vague smirk, eyes open for any sign of an attack, either hand resting on the grip of his cane. She paused at his side, hand outstretched towards his wound, and he nodded back, drawing his own away from the slash. Holding her hand just above it, she focused her will and the will of Chronepsis, drawing on her faith. Bathed in the healing light that soon glowed forth, the wound slowly sealed from one end to another, a thin line of pale scar tissue the only sign in but an instant.

With a snort, Cathra stalked back to the tree line, leaning against a trunk with blades sheathed and arms crossed. “I still don’t trust you berks. You’re up to something!”

“No, no, we swear it! Jus’...jus’ thought we’d have some fun, that’s all.” Rapidly shaking his head, the young man stumbled away from Tiana and stared at Cathra.

Both their interest piqued with the conflict resolved, Cairon and Jazaka each approached the cages, watching the hovering worms and delighting a bit in the quiet chirps they let out every so often. Meanwhile, Tiana removed a writ of arrest from her bag, holding it up to the two for their perusal; upon reading the words, they paled even further. Trasal smirked, stepping up to her side. “Now, cooperate, and we might let you go free. Now, what were your names?”

“Bran,” said the uninjured one, while his companion said, “Dafydd,” the both of them seeming to have swiftly sobered up from pure fear.

“Mm. Now, Bran, Dafydd. You say this was nothing but a prank? I presume, then, that you’ve only just recently arrived?”

Offering one another a quick look, they nodded to Trasal. Bran added, “Been camped here not even a week. Scared some merchant types, but nothin’ worse than that!”

Each frowning, Trasal and Tiana shared a look. He turned back to the two as Tiana pocketed her writ. “Then we’ll make a deal. You can lure the others back, I assume?”

Again, they each nodded fervently.

“Good. Do that, and give the lot of us a ride back to town, and you’ll be free to go.”

They nodded once more in full agreement, nearly collapsing from relief, as Cathra audibly groaned, eyes rolling nearly back in her head. “C’mon, we’re not even gonna shake ‘em down for jink? Some soddin’ adventure...hardly even killed anything.”

“Hey, how d’you lure them anyway?” Cairon, coming around the wagon, watched then with wide eyes and grin. “Mind if I help? These’re neat. Sorry ‘bout killing th’others, but they did try t’attack us! Guess we scared ‘em, though...”

Dafydd, watching the others carefully for any sudden attacks or changes of mind, led Cairon to the side of the wagon, pulling a small bag of sugar cubes from a slim storage bin. While the two began haltingly discussing handling methods, Jreen approached Bran, asking about cooking methods to his bafflement. Meanwhile, Cathra, utterly disinterested, climbed back into the trees to find some means of amusing herself.

As the three distracted themselves and kept the two unlucky men busy, Trasal gathered Tiana and Jazaka into a small huddle, offering them both a look of concern. “Well, this clearly wasn’t the omen. Coincidence?”

Jazaka tilted her head just slightly to the side with a slight frown. “I rarely believe in coincidence these days. This seems too convenient for that. Perhaps not the reason for the omen, but perhaps one of its causes?”

Tiana, considering, offered a brisk nod. “It was our time to be here. This feels correct.”

With a bemused sigh, Trasal shook his head. “Oh, I hope the Fates aren’t writing this. I could tell you tales, Tiana.”

“You have,” she said, offering a hint of a smile.

“Ah, of course.” He laughed. “Then you know how much pain the Fated suffer.”

“When they fight.”

“One way of seeing it, I suppose,” he said with another laugh, giving the others a quick glance to ensure no trouble had broken out in the interim.

Jazaka looked between the two, their well-trod chemistry reminding her for a moment of her own distant companion  Letting the memory drift by, she straightened her posture, clearing her throat. “Fated or not, it seems there’s little more to uncover here.”

“I’d say you’re right, friend. Thus the offer. These two seem harmless enough. No true sins here. And we owe them a bit of leniency, I think.”

Tiana agreed with them both. “We return. And regroup. The trail must continue elsewhere.”

“Perhaps these two have a more useful detail unawares. I’ll see what I can drag out of them over these next days,” Trasal said with amusement as he split from the two, rapping his cane casually against the wagon as he passed it by.

Chapter Text

The fifth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Another hour of discussion over, and Trasal with no further luck. To his growing irritation, he finally was forced to accept that indeed, these two were nothing but a pair of drunk, bored would-be pranksters from Xaos with no knowledge or even awareness of any signs or omens, just as claimed. Sitting against the wagon’s edge, he sighed, the worm cages rattling beside him as the wagon rolled along towards Broadshire.

Walking alongside nearby, Tiana glanced to him with a quirked brow, to which he shook his head. “Nothing more, no. I’d hoped some clue, but they must’ve simply been caught up in the ebb of fate or what have you.” Looking past the cages to Jazaka, seated at the fore of the wagon, he lowered his voice, knowing well by now the acuity of her hearing. “Your newfound friend is certain that the signs were to lead in this direction?”

Tiana nodded, glancing back the way they came for a quick moment, frowning herself in some mild frustration.

“I suppose she could simply be wrong, but I’ve never known an oracle to misread the signs that strongly. Perhaps we missed something? Could both of us have simply not seen what we were meant to see?”

With a brisk shake of her head, Tiana dismissed any such chances; the worry had bothered her this last day as well, but she’d had no sense of late of their course of fate being askew.

“Mm. And I note the wildlife still seems to be absent. Our furry companion has groused more than once of the poor hunting along our walk. It hasn’t likely passed us by either.” Falling silent for a moment, Trasal gathered his thoughts, tapping absently against the wagon bed with his walking stick. “One comment from the two that did strike me is that the animals about this region had only fled within a day or two of their arrival. After we’d set out. I think perhaps we misread that aspect of things, Tiana. That this quiet isn’t an omen itself, but a symptom.”

Stepping carefully over a rock along the path, Tiana gave him a questioning glance.

“As with earthquakes, volcanoes, and the like. The fleeing of the local fauna isn’t an omen of ill tiding per se, but a reaction. Not fate manifest physically, but more...a sensation of something beneath our ken.”

Processing this, Tiana nodded cautiously; Trasal’s experience in the ways of nature, though far in the past, had always borne out before, after all. “A coming disaster?”

“Quite likely. It still leaves many questions unanswered if so, of course, but perhaps for now, we ought be prepared for the worst.”

With a scowl, Tiana nodded once more, peering ahead to the horizon with newfound wariness.

Chapter Text

The seventh of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

The wagon began its ascent over the last of the hills before Broadshire’s own, now hardly an hour from the village, as Jreen lounged in back, the light breeze and gentle vibrations lulling him, images of great hunts flitting through his mind in his half-conscious state. Beside him, Tiana meditated, communing with Chronepsis, while amongst the cages Cathra taunted Cairon while holding Samson above her open maw.

With a sudden shift of the wind, though, a new, worrisome scent brought him to sudden wakefulness. Furrowing his brow, he took a deep breath, confirming what he already knew: smoke. Cathra was the second to catch the scent, offhandedly tossing Samson back into Cairon’s hands as she clambered to the front of the wagon, peering ahead between Jazaka and Bran. “Th’ hell?”

“Cathra?” Cairon fumbled a little, easing Samson back into one of his many perches, before joining her at the fore. “What is it?”

“Somethin’s burnin’. Ahead.”

At her words, Jazaka sniffed the air, scowling. “Yes...and recent. The smoke is still fresh.”

“Burnin’? Y’think someone’s havin’ a bonfire?”

As the wagon reached the hill’s peak, and the village came into sight, both its natives were struck silent: fires across near the whole of the village, half of it destroyed and the other half near to. Buildings they’d known all their life now gone, lost to the flames currently aglow against the midday sky. Dozens of plumes of smoke rising across the span of Broadshire into the air, swirling about in the winds high above before dissipating into nothing. And not a single sign of any attempts at fighting the flames, at saving something of the village before it all was lost.

Wordlessly, Cairon jumps off and ahead of the wagon, running; Cathra stared agape, disbelieving, before joining him behind. Jreen, gathering his spear, soon followed, as Tiana, removed from her meditation, urged Bran to rush onwards, Trasal hopping in back of the wagon as they sped behind the three.

As Cairon and Cathra approached, the smoke and heat grew stronger, stinging his eyes and thickening the air to his breath, but he pressed forward heedlessly. Drawing nearer, he began to make out the scope of the damage; this was no mishap, the once well-laid stones of the square now in utter disarray from what must have been the passage of hundreds. Bodies lay about on every road they could spy, some scorched but most showing signs of an ever varied array of weapons: one impaled, another sliced open, a third bruised and broken. Not a single sign of life from anyone or anything as the two pressed through, and it was only once atop the village’s own hill that the attackers themselves became visible; at the horizon, far in the distance, an entire squadron pressing on along a trail literally torn from once-grassy fields. Some in the air, some on land, their silhouettes only near-humanoid at best.

Pausing just at the edge of the village, Cairon paled. “Oh no.” Though near out of breath, he bolted off towards his family’s forge.

Beside him, Cathra could only watch as the squadron disappeared in the distance, talons drawing blood from her palms as she clenched her fists. A bit of movement drew her attention through a break in the wall of what was once a stable, a half-dozen draft horses slaughtered across the now-smoldering hay. Pulling her katars free, she stalked around the ruins in pure rage. Beyond the near-ruins, a pair of stragglers flung flames about with utter disinterest - scaled creatures near half her size covered in thin spines, leathery wings stretching from their backs. Turning towards the now-screaming Cathra, they hardly had time to take a step before the furious tiefling pounced atop one of them, pierced by a half-dozen spines but heedless of the wounds, driving her dagger straight through its shoulder and pinning it to the ground as the other took up a readied stance but three feet away.

Leaving the wagon behind, Tiana and Trasal wound through the burning wreckage that was once Broadshire, frowning at the death and carnage but keeping weapons readied as they approached the Sheriff’s office at the center of the village, apparently the last to be burned from how well it continued to stand. Too filled with smoke to see through the windows, Trasal could yet hear a quiet coughing from within, and with a nod to Tiana, the two slammed their shoulders into the door, bursting in.

Pushing in, Trasal winced through the smoke that filled the room, shouting between coughs. “Is anyone here? Call out if you can hear me!”

Through the rushing air and deafening inferno, he could just hear the cry of children beyond. Easing in with a low stance, he made his way forward, towards the cell; lying just before the door, collapsed, with an ancient sword still gripped, was Sheriff D’Shyre, and within the cell, locked safe away, were the near two dozen children of Broadshire, half-conscious but alive.

Grabbing the keys from D’Shyre’s free hand, Trasal rushed to the cell door while Tiana knelt, checking on his condition - also alive, but barely so. As she took him from the building, he looked back out, shouting to the silhouettes of the terrified teenagers waiting at the doorway. “Come help! There’s children here, we can’t get them all alone!” Before he could say more, he stared up towards the ceiling, cracking and bowing as the fire took its toll. Sparks jumped from the rafters, at times seeming to him to almost glint like starlight; a strange moment of brief beauty in this scene of carnage. Looking back to the children, he rushed out those who could walk, nodding to the approaching help as the four together carried those who couldn’t. Not stopping until they were far down the street, Bran and Dafydd themselves collapsed against a half-fallen wall, coughing and panting for air, while Trasal and Tiana appraised the surroundings, wary for more stragglers still lurking. None showing themselves, they relaxed their blades, seeing to these few survivors .

Trasal, kneeling near the children, began offering water, while Tiana plied her healing one by one upon the unconscious, for now ignoring the quiet whisper of anxiety as to whether she ought be interfering at all.

Cairon rushed down the street to the forge, forcing himself to ignore the familiar bodies laid out here and there alongside the road. Ahead, his family’s home still burned, half of it already collapsed to the ground and the rest soon nearing it. Ignoring the smoke, the heat, he crashed through a door already half off its hinges and collapsed with it into the family room, familiar sights of his life being rendered to ash on all sides.

Pushing himself onto his hands and knees, coughing and wheezing, he tore at his sleeve. Soaking it in the waterskin at his side, he held it to his mouth as he uneasily climbed back to his feet. Shoving through from room to room, free hand blistering, he looked anxiously for any sign of his parents, his sisters, but nothing.

Frantic, he rushed through the back, across the way to the open-air forge itself; also burning, but more weakly. The site brought him back to past conversations; his father’s insistence on safety, on ensuring that would the worst come, it would come as mildly as he could manage. A dark laugh came forth between sobs of fear; “if the worst happened” indeed. The doors hung open, the air here clear, the forge itself still lit just as when he left. At first, it seemed as empty as the house, and a moment of relief came to his mind for their escape.

This didn’t last. There, beyond the forge, he could see two bodies, familiar even from a distance.

“Ma’! Da’!”

Rushing to their side, he dropped the cloth, forcing himself to look despite every fiber of his being screaming to look away. Their death was clear: scorched, slashed, studded with needles, their wounds were blatant. Not without purpose - behind him, nearer to the doors, he’s half-aware of the bodies of two devils, one smashed by his father’s hammer, the other with a pair of bolts to the chest from his mother’s own crossbow.

Drifting from his body, he watched the two absently, floating in a sea of grief yet apart from it.

“R...right.”

As gently as he could manage, he lifted his mother’s body from the ground, carrying her to a nearby hill to lay her softly in the grass. After, he returned for his father’s body, doing the same. A distant part of his mind yelled about Hanna and Zara, but he simply sat at their feet, chin on his knees, arms wrapped around his legs. And he watched them both as his home burned to cinders.

Cathra twisted her blade with a manic grin, fangs bared at the fiend beneath her. “Is this what y’wanted? Is it?”

Behind her, she was heedless to its partner as it rose a hand, calling forth flame from its essence. Glaring to the impertinent mortal, it prepared to torch her alive, interrupted only by the grinding of bones and the writhing of flesh shifting about behind it. Looking over its shoulder, its last view was of a massive albino gnoll tossing aside a glass vial, before driving a dagger now the size of a bastard sword through its skull.

Still, Cathra noticed nothing, mad laughter echoing forth as she plunges her other katar into the beast’s other shoulder with another twist, ichor leaking beneath them in a spreading puddle, but still not even a whimper from the winged thing that destroyed everything.

Fear finally taking the place of adrenalin, she began to falter, startled for a moment by a scaled hand settling on her shoulder. Ready to bite or claw at another fiend, she started at the sight of Jazaka, who watched her with clouded eyes, holding a sympathy deeper than Cathra would have expected from a lizard she barely knew. A sympathy that would normally bring anger now only brings emptiness; she sat back from the fiend, realizing now that it had died from the shock of her very first blow. Jazaka knelt beside her as she began to shudder, and took her into an embrace just as she finally broke, as she erupted into deep, terrified sobs, trying to speak but lacking the breath. Instead, she simply gripped Jazaka, face pressed tightly into her shoulder, tears pouring forth as righteous fury was lost to a gaping pit of sorrow.

“Shh.” She ran her talons lightly along Cathra’s back, ignoring the slight pinpricks in her hide from Cathra’s in her own. “I know. I know.”

Jreen, pulling his blade free, watched the two and kept his distance, standing quiet sentinel over them for any others that would dare approach.

Trasal watched as the children slowly recovered from their ordeal; physically, at least. Frowning, he watched up the street and down; the echoes of combat rung clear to him, and he well-knew that a charnelhouse like this could bear any number of unseen threats. Indeed, this was no place to try and treat these young ones, but there were too many in too bad a place to bring them any further, to his regret. Noting Brad and Dafydd, he dispatched them down either end of what remained of the street with a gesture, sending them to keep watch, letting his attention better focus on those that most needed it right now.

Keeping tone light, he did what he could to cheer or amuse the children, pacing slowly near them, a close eye on each for any unseen wounds or harm, but none seemed to show themselves. A small bright spot in this horrorscape, it seemed that the dear Sheriff was able to keep safe the youngest of the town from anything worse than a harsh cough. The trauma may - he ought be honest; would - emerge with time, but for now, he could tell, they manage. He looked back towards D’Shyre for just a moment at that thought, hiding best he could the melancholy in his eyes as he kept the children distracted; never lying, but not quite answering the questions they of course had. Still, the oldest of their number seemed to understand too, helping Trasal in his efforts without even a word exchanged.

He was still breathing, but he was not yet awake. That was the thought that filled Tiana’s mind to the exclusion of all else.Beside D’Shyre, she sat, gauntlets removed as she gripped his hand, letting the energies of Chronepsis flow as best she could even if already well-drained from her efforts so far. Trasal looked to her from his pacing: until he crossed that precipice, she’d give her all to keep him back from it, he knows, and yet once he crossed it, she’d force herself to leave him behind. A hard line to walk, harder than he could manage. One way or another, he’ll have words with the earth when day’s light fades.

His thoughts were briefly interrupted by the coughing fit of a young dwarf, almost enough to lead her to passing out; kneeling beside her, he beamed, resting a hand on her back and using some of the last of his own divine energy to ease the worst of it. “Slow breaths, milady. Here,” he continued, handing her his waterskin, more than half-empty by now. “Don’t gulp it down, or things will feel even worse. Slowly, and slow breaths.”

“...thank you, sir.” She handed it back, eyes fixed to the ground, before hugging her knees. Lost in her thoughts, her fears, likely even her memories, Trasal knew he didn’t have further words for her.

Holding back a sigh, he stood, glancing nearby to the young woman approaching him; one of the oldest of the children, one of those helping him to keep the rest calm. For a moment, he feared the worst, but only just a moment; she was weary, anxious, and the soot on her cheeks was streaked, but she wasn’t frightened. Forcing himself to once more be...well, his self, he smiled, leaning on his cane far more than those watching would suspect. “Trouble with the little ones, miss?”

“Oh...no, no, they’re...” She gripped her skirt in one hand, rubbing her shoulder with the other, as she took a slow breath, swallowing her emotion back. “They’re quiet. Resting. Some are...are sleeping. I just...now that they’re...” Falling quiet, she took another breath. “...you were one of the travelers, yes? You...left with Cairon?”

Raising a brow in curiosity at first, the clues - which would have been well-obvious to him on any other day, he berated himself over - fell into place. The resemblance was definitely there now that he looked again, slowly nodding. “You would be Hanna, then.”

Her eyes widened in mild surprise, but she nodded. “How’d you...”

“Oh, he talked of you quite a bit on our travels; his family never seemed to leave his mind for a moment. If I’d had my head, I would’ve sought you both out, but...” Trailing off, he grunted just barely loud enough to hear, inclining his head in an apologetic nod. “You’re concerned of your brother, of course. If you’d keep your watch for me, I’ll bring your brother here to see you. He must be...but I’m sure you know too.”

Wrapping her arms around herself, she nodded. “He...we...I was afraid he...”

“You needn’t say anything, Miss Hanna. On occasion, it isn’t the time for words. And by Alekto, this is certainly one of those occasions.” Rubbing at his eyes with thumb and forefinger, he let loose a long sigh, stepping to her side and falling quiet as he looked out over the wreckage. Finally, though, he tore his gaze away, glancing to her with a crooked half-smile. “But there’s duty for now. For both of us. Mourning can follow the night, mm?”

Despite herself, despite her turmoil, Hanna gave a quiet laugh, seemingly surprising herself. With a thankful smile of her own to Trasal, if only the slightest of one, she nodded without word.

“He won’t be far. I’ll bring him here. You have my word.” With that, Trasal started down the road, off after Cairon, his words reassurance as much as apology.

Cairon had no clue how much time had passed. A second was as well as a year as he watched over the forms that were once his parents. What were they now? Were they still? Their souls were probably already off to...he’s not sure. Somewhere nice, he hopes. Somewhere together, he’s certain. They should be together, even if they won’t know it. Will they? He hopes that too.

It’s a strange thing about living in the Outlands, away from the gate-towns or the big cities; death is always on the mind. Places like those don’t see petitioners quite as much. But out here, half the people he might run into out in the field might be dead. He remembers the first time he asked about them. He was barely Zara’s age, sitting by the forge. His dad speaking to a woman over an order. Cairon knew almost right away that something was odd, but it took about ten minutes before he noticed she wasn’t breathing. Wasn’t blinking. And the intensity in her eyes, as she told his dad exactly what she wanted. The words cycle through his head today: a cross with four spheres, each precisely the same weight. Precisely balanced. The way she just about hissed the S’s, the way she snapped the end of the word off sharply. The way her eyes went a bit wider every time she mentioned the need for balance.

He wasn’t frightened...was he? He’s not even sure anymore. He doesn’t think he was. But he was bothered. It wasn’t until that evening before he had the courage to ask his mum why she was so odd. (Not his dad; he loved his dad, but things like this, he could never talk about.) She offered him a sad look for a moment, before taking a seat beside him. She was heavy with Hanna at the time...he thinks. He’s fairly sure she was.

She was. He’s sure of it. She was wearing a blue dress, and...

...she was quiet for a while, and when she spoke, her voice was soft.

“When a person’s body...passes on, their spirit flies free. Flies to where it most...fits. For some of us, that’s the end, and it can just fade to its reward. But for most, it doesn’t always fit perfectly. Those spirits walk the planes as petitioners. And sometimes, they walk alongside us, trying to find their way to that perfect fit.

“Sometimes, they might seem frightening, especially if you don’t understand them. Their emotions, their desires, they’re..very different from the living. They don’t need to hunt for their purpose. And traveling the road towards it means more to them than anything. But they’re still people, just like you and me.”

“And Dad was...helping her?”

She said-...no, she nodded, and said, “That’s right, Cairon.  She hoped your father could make her a focus to help her travel her path. Some craftsmen don’t like helping petitioners; they tend not to pay well for work, and some think it bad luck to help them.  But your father believes the dead deserve whatever help they can find to reach their reward.”

He didn’t understand then, but he’d nodded, and didn’t ask more. He left, and...he can’t even remember what else happened that night. But it wasn’t important.

He never really came to understand either. He’d seen quite a few petitioners since then. Met some himself. Was even friends with a dwarf who helped out in the forge for a couple of years, trying to impress Dumathoin, before he just stopped showing up one day without word. But even with all that, he never understood.

And now, with his parents laid out before him, he...still doesn’t. He doesn’t know where they are now. All he has left is their...

...Too empty to let that thought continue, his mind fell silent. Too empty, too tired, too ready to give up. His parents weren’t here anymore. His sisters...he doesn’t even know. Slumping forward, arms crossed and resting on his knees, he closed his eyes. Halfway to sleep after however long it’s been, he snapped back to consciousness with the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. He looked up to Trasal, eyes dead and face a blank mask, unable to muster even the effort to say something; not even listening to his words, following him with hardly a thought.

Lost in his mind, his attention flit from one memory to another, guided around rubble here and holes there by Trasal’s gentle nudging. He nodded to whatever it was Trasal was saying; he stopped, so it must’ve been the right response. Good, one less distraction.

Voices ahead, though; he stopped, looking ahead, no desire to be around a crowd right now  He...

Wait, people? Here? Broken from his thoughts for a moment, he stared ahead at the crowd of children looking to him in recognition. Unable to process it, he merely stood there, staring, finally broken from his reverie by a voice from ahead.

“Cairon?”

He doesn’t even need to think to recognize it; the tears he’d held back until now begun to flow freely as he turned to Hanna, running at him in relief. Pulling her tight, he couldn’t tell if he was laughing or sobbing, the two of them collapsing to their knees.

“Zara? Is she?”

“No, no, she’s...” She shook her head, gulping for breath. “Zara’s safe. We’re all...he saved us. They surrounded the village, and...and everyone fought, they...he...they gave him time...to...” Shaking, she pulled away. “Cairon, I thought we...you...”

“...so did I, Hanna. I went home, it was all burning, and Mum and Dad, and I couldn’t find you two, but you’re....y’know, I...I didn’t get you nothin’ after all...” Laughing, he pushed himself to his feet. “Where’s Zara? I need to see her.”

Nodding rapidly, gripping his hand, she tugged him down the crowd, as both let emotion free.

Chapter Text

The seventh of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Cathra sat at the ruins of the church, crouching in the dirt, arms crossed at the wrist and resting on her knees. Having cried and screamed herself out well before the sky darkened, she merely sat, looking. Nearly half an hour spent trying to pull away the collapsed stone, to no avail. But she’d understand. She always understood; sodding annoying, it was, she thought to herself with a sharp smile.

She’d like this being her resting place, though. Meant a lot to her. Probably spent her whole life here.

Was she raised here too? Cathra never thought to ask before. Too late now, though. Eh.

Standing, she stepped towards the wreckage, running a talon along the edge of the ruins, hearing the scrape and watching the bare stone exposed beneath the ash, pushing nostalgia from her mind. A quiet footstep behind her brought her wary, but with a short glance, she relaxed at the sight of Cairon. With hardly the energy to snap at him, she waved absently, perching against a half-collapsed wall. She looked over the dead church with a grunt, saying nothing.

“...hey. Y’...all right, Cathra?”

She gave him a short look, unable to muster the effort to sneer.

“...yeah. Me either. Th’ others...” He turned back to the former square, shoulders slumped. “...everyone’s healthy, an’ Mr. D’Shyre’s back awake, so...we’re talking about setting up camp out of...about heading to Redwood tomorrow.”

Something snapped in her at the thought; she gripped the stone hard enough to draw blood, spirit flaring. “Jus’...abandonin’ all this, then? Jus’...just...they come and wipe it out, and we just...we let them?”

“...Y’...” Cairon stared, proccessing this. “Y’ve been sayin’ how much you wanted t’leave town for years, Cath!”

“I didn’t want this! I...I didn’t...” Unable to hold back, she screamed, standing with a sharp spin and kicking the remains of the wall hard.

“...I know. I know y’ didn’t.”

“How’re you so calm about all this?” Stalking up to Cairon, she gestured wildly, stopping just before slamming into him. “Why aren’t you angry? Why are you always so sodding quiet?”

Cairon looked away, wincing slightly. “...wanted your...help with somethin’ before we go. My parents, they...I wanted t’get them buried before...”

Her ire drained away, she couldn’t find words at first, fumbling in her mind for a response before finally drawing on what bluster she could still manage, arms squeezed around herself. “What’s...what’s th’ point? They’re dead either way, ain’t they? What’s it matter above or below ground?”

“...matters t’me.” He shrugged, rubbing his arm, eyes still locked on the dirt. Seeing Cathra herself again, even a bit, helped make it all feel normal to him, as he cracked the faintest hint of a smile. “Couldn’t...I couldn’t find a shovel, though. “

Quiet for another long spell, she sighed. “I’ll...I’ll meet y’ there. Just give me a few turns.”

“I...right. All right.” Cairon started back for what was once his family forge, as Cathra left the ruins, sparing just a moment to look back towards Mother Elyssa.

Some time later, as Cairon sat sentinel, Cathra walked up with a spade in either hand. “You owe me for this one.” She tossed one to Cairon’s feet. “...Well...you owe the Harrisons, but...”

Cairon smiled just a bit, though it hurt to do so, as he took up the shovel. “Thanks, Cath.” Kicking about at the dirt, he looked for a proper spot, one that seemed right. And soon, the two began to dig in silence, as the day’s light faded into dusk. Eventually, the grave began to take shape; with some effort, the two climbed out, Cathra staring in discomfort as Cairon moved towards the bodies. “Not...I hope it’s big enough. We’ve gotta...rest them ‘top each other I think...they’ll be alright together, y’think? They slept in the same bed for nigh on twenty years, so...”

With no clue what to say, Cathra said nothing, moving finally with Cairon. One by one, the two were carefully lowered into the grave, hardly a word exchanged during.

Finally, Cairon and Cathra stood at the edge, looking down on the pair in repose.

Cairon gripped his hands together. “We ought t’...cover them with something first, yeah? White dust, or...t’ keep th’rats away.”

“...I s’pose. Got any white dust?”

“...plenty of ash from the fires. That might do. An’...an’ a blanket from inside, if there’s anythin’ that didn’t burn. I should...”

He turned towards the flaming ruins, only to be stopped by Cathra’s hand on his shoulder, claws squeezing gently. “Don’t go. I’ll get somethin’. You just...say goodbye to them.”

“Y...yeah. All right. I...thanks.”

“Don’t go gettin’ all mushy on me, I’m just...”

With a frown, Cathra trailed off to silence. Leaving Cairon to his piece, she stepped quickly to the now-smoldering house, looking through what remained. She turned over burnt furniture and pushed past collapsed beams, surprised at how many memories began to flood back. Dinners, arguments, talks, fights; it seemed like nearly everything reminded her of something. Finally, in a half-scorched wardrobe, she found sheets that ought do, collecting ash in them before stepping back out. From a distance, she could see Cairon crouching at the grave’s edge, face in his hands; she stepped slowly, but with more noise than usual, and he soon stood, wiping at his face and doing his best to make himself presentable.

“C’mon, Cairon; the others’re waiting, right?”

“...right. Let’s...finish this up, then.” With her help, he laid the blanket over them, spreading the ash across it, and the two filled the grave, earth spilling into the open pit. Wanting to say something, he couldn’t find the words, a bit perversely amused though his silence at the thought that sprang to mind: Samson’s quite good at funerals, it seems to him. Properly quiet and stoic.

Giving him a sidelong look, Cathra knelt in the grass, carefully digging a dandelion from the soil, root and all, and planting it in the fresh mound. “Thanks f’r...not callin’ Matt every time I took something o’ yours. An’...thanks for having me around so much.”

With a teary smile, Cairon laughed, wrapping an arm around Cathra’s waist; though she put on a show of trying to shake it off, she soon settled, returning it with an arm of her own. “She liked you, y’know. Tol’ me you were like a third daughter.”

“Mmph.” A quiet fell over the pair, broken only some minutes later as Cathra did her best to force some flippancy. “Good now?”

“...nah. Better, though. C’mon; like you said, they’re waitin’, eh?” Letting her go, he started away towards the sounds of the others with hands in his pockets and shoulders tensed, taking only a single glance behind himself before the grave was no longer in sight.

Chapter Text

The seventh of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Gathered around a large campfire, weapons ready should the worst happen, the travelers settled after such a horrid day. As Jazaka and Tiana watched over the children nearby, and Jreen lurked the shadows for any animals that may have re-emerged in the last hours, the rest sat, recovering from their recent walk. Supplies had been foraged, carts and wagons recovered from the ruins, some final diabolic stragglers had been slain, and spirits had been, if not buoyed, at least kept stable during the last two hours’ walk, making enough distance from the remains for Trasal to feel confident they’d be safe enough to camp.

Cairon was the first to speak after sitting down, staring over towards Matt, conscious and recovered. “Mr. D’Shyre, what...what happened?”

A bit startled, he shook his head. “I don’t...exactly know myself. We saw them on the horizon. We mustered best we could. The adults held their ground, and I barely had time to gather the children. They came in fast, surrounded us. So I got them as safe as I thought I could manage. I was an idiot, though. I thought the bars would hold them off if they got in, I didn’t think they’d...burn the village.”

Cathra sneered, spitting at the ground. “‘S what fiends do, isn’t it?”

With a shake of his head, Trasal sat forward, leaning on his cane. “Devils? No, devils don’t destroy without reason. They might not care for mortals, but they wouldn’t waste the effort. Did they say anything, Sheriff? Make any statements, any demands, call for anyone’s head?”

D’Shyre stared into the fire, quiet for a long spell. Finally, he looked to Trasal, eyes near blank. “Nothing. They were silent as...as death, frankly. Just...slaughtering. I should’ve joined the fight, but-”

“It’s no use doing that.” Trasal shook his head, half-smiling. “What happened has happened. And if you had joined, you likely would’ve got yourself killed like the rest. You saved two dozen lives. Remember that.”

Scowling, D’Shyre simply sighed, no response to Trasal’s reassurances. Instead, he looked to the horizon, off along the next day’s route. “Redwood is about two days’ walk Hinterwards, towards the Dwarven Mountain.  The devils aren’t going to stray that near a divine realm if they have any sense, whatever it is they want. We can work to find room for the children there.”

Trasal nodded. “That seems like our best next move, then. Safety for the little ones is paramount. Until then, I suggest you avoid dwelling, the three of you.” His cheer fell away for a moment, his distant facade fading some as he looked in the eyes of each of the survivors of Broadshire in turn. “It will do no good for you; trust me. What has happened cannot be changed, but know that those who have brought it about will find their just punishment.”

Slowly, D’Shyre nodded, looking himself to Cairon and Cathra with pained eyes. “He’s right. I’ve suffered...many, many tragedies. Dwelling, worrying, wondering what might have been? It will do you no good.”

Though Cathra did her best to be firm, Cairon seemed doubtful, and each had no response to the suggestion. Instead, Cairon quickly changed the subject, looking across to the small crowd. “What’re we gonna do with ’em all, though? Where’re they gonna stay? How’re we gonna find room for so many?”

D’Shyre watched them himself, responding with no hesitation. “I’ll stay with them. One way or another, I won’t let them be lost.”

Cathra kept quiet, tossing handfuls of grass into the flame and watching it smolder and curl. Cairon, though, continued to look over the children, watched Hanna and Zara as they listened to Jazaka’s stories of her travels, torn between two paths. “I...I wanna know what th’fiends were about. Can’t be sure t’be safe unless we...why us? What did they think they were doin’?” Tearing his eyes away, he looked towards their local expert on the ways of Law. “Y’said devilkind don’t strike without reason, Trasal, so why this? I...I don’t want t’leave ‘em behind, but we gotta know. We can’t jus’ let this...this can’t just happen and that’s th’end of it.”

“Mmph. They should pay.” Prodding the firewood with a long stick now, Cathra crouched, eyes locked on the fire, voice low but sharp. “I want them to pay. All of them. I’ll do whatever needs doin’ for that. Let’em all burn.”

Watching Cathra, Cairon opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it; he couldn’t rightly say he didn’t feel the same, though a part of him wished he didn’t. Instead, he turned to Trasal, leaning forward on his legs. “Y’re...y’re an investigator-type, yeah? Th’two of you? You can help us find them, eh? Track them down, and...” He trailed off, still unsure what the next step would be.

Weighing his words, Trasal replied after a pause, less humor in his voice than usual. “...I could. We could. This isn’t too far from our mission, after all. Not much bigger an omen than this. I mean to speak with Tiana on it when we reach Redwood. To decide our next steps. And I suppose we wouldn’t mind having some help. You both showed yourself well the other day, I’d be glad to travel with you both again.”

D’Shyre watched the pain in Cairon’s eyes, letting the moment briefly sit before he said, “I give you my word, Cairon. Whatever you decide, Hanna and Zara will be safe and cared for. I failed to protect my people once, but I will not fail again.”

He looked to D’Shyre with a glint of relief, and turned back to the fire. The quiet set in thick, broken at times by the crackle of the flame, and the faint words of the children and their current watchers. It threatened to become oppressing, each of the lone three adult survivors of the devastation left to their thoughts, when the sharp crack of a twig and a quiet, not-quite-canine yelp echoed from nearby.

“Jreen has returned.” Stepping forward, the white-furred gnoll seemed quite pleased with himself, dropping a burlap sack right beside Cathra before plopping himself next to Cairon with a broad, familiar grin. “With fiends gone, plenty of prey. Small prey, but still prey. Should be enough for all!”

Scowling, Cathra edged away from the sack. “What is that smell?”

“Jreen experimented with flaming traps! Some fur was singed, but meat is still good.” With a wheezy chuckle, he continued, “Jreen thought human-types liked their meat cooked?”

“Not burnt, y’berk!”

“So picky. Next time, Jreen will skin them for Cathra, to protect her delicate nose. For now, Cathra may want to step away from fire.” Pulling a carcass from the bag, he held it near the flame as she glared at him with utter rage. Grunting, she swung a fist into his arm before stomping off to the edge of camp, as Jreen wheezed with laughter.

Though holding back laughter himself, Cairon reached for Jreen’s arm, pulling it back. “Jreen, y’don’t-”

“Shh, Jreen knows. Funnier to make Cathra mad, though. Cairon will help clean? But save the offal; Jreen is curious of their recent diet, wondering if perhaps it was affected by stress.”

He snickered, shaking his head to the gnoll as he drew a slim work knife from his belt. “Yeah, ‘course. Pass ‘em over. Mr. D’Shyre, Trasal, you wanna help?”

D’Shyre, though quiet, nodded, taking up a carcass with his own knife and a gentle smile. Trasal simply watched with amusement, standing slowly before the worst of the work could begin. “I’m afraid I’ll decline this one, friend Jreen. I think I shall patrol the surroundings, ensure that all is still safe. But thank you.”

Cairon chuckled, looking between his work and the looming gnoll at his side. “So...we’ve been talkin’ about what’s next. After...after we get to th’next town over. How about you? Headin’ back to your tribe?”

His entire body seemed to cringe as he shook his head. “No...Jreen cannot. Not yet. Jreen must first complete his hunt. Mirren knew what Mirren was doing, leaving Jreen here. Jreen must hunt a fiend. The greater the fiend, the better for the tribe. And Jreen’s tribe needs all the aid tribe can get.”

“Mirren?”

“...Jreen apologies; Mirren is Jreen’s tribe’s Flind. Chieftain. Mirren said Jreen’s time for hunt had come, so Jreen hunts.”

“Y’don’t seem too happy about it.” Cairon sat back a bit straighter, shifting so as to better watch Jreen as he cleaned and dressed his carcasses.

“Happy? Of course Jreen is happy!” He stared at Cairon with shock, snickering. “Jreen hunts more fiends, brings more glory to Jreen’s tribe! Simply not what Jreen was expecting, is all.” Turning from Cairon to his work, he continues, “Jreen has had a lot to think about lately. Many ideas coming to Jreen’s mind. Perhaps Jreen is simply...distracted...” Pausing significantly, pondering a thought only just emerging to mind, he sat bolt straight. Staring down to Cairon, he grinned broadly. “Perhaps Cairon could help Jreen, though, if Jreen will be traveling with Cairon! Jreen is needing a research assistant, and Jreen would like to enlist Cairon for that. Cairon would help expand the bounds of science!”

“...uh.” Cairon could only stare back, laughing nervously. “Not quite what I ‘spected you t’say, friend. But...science?” He seemed to get a spark of excitement himself, setting his knife down a spell. “Wouldn’t be borin’ science, would it? Nothin’ like how m’teacher tried to say boiling water was science or anything, would it?”

“Jreen can promise, Jreen’s science will not be boring at all.”

“Then sure, ‘course!”

“Hm! Then as Cairon’s first act as Jreen’s assistant, drink this.” Holding a vial out to Cairon, he grinned, eager to see what might happen as he pulled a slim-bound book from his pack. “Potion Jreen made while waiting for rabbits. Changes Jreen’s body, Jreen is curious if it will work on Cairon.”

“Hm. Fair ‘nough.”

“...Cairon, are y-”

D’Shyre began to stand in concern, but before he could barely say anything, Cairon had shrugged, and downed the entire vial in one gulp. Nearly immediately, he cringed, gagging in disgust as Jreen rapidly recorded every bit of what he saw in his notebook.

“Cairon feel any different?”

“No, but what was that? Never had a more disgustin’ thing in m’life!”

“Potion, as Jreen said. No effect at all, then?”

“No, but ‘m never drinkin’ that ever again, Jreen.”

Frowning, Jreen furrowed his brow, rummaging through his pack. “Perhaps was a faulty batch. Jreen could make a fresh vial to confirm?”

Cairon stared blankly at Jreen. Without breaking eye contact, he snatched Jreen’s knife from his lap, and tossed it off into the brush. “Oh look Jreen. Y’ dropped y’r knife. Better go get it so we can keep workin’.”

Jreen stared back, soon breaking into a snickering laugh. “Fine, Cairon can do next experiment another time. Jreen will keep working carcasses.”

After washing his mouth out best he could with his waterskin, Cairon returned to the same as he chuckled with Jreen, well-cheered for the first time since morning.

Time passed on, as the survivors traveled ahead towards the outermost portion of the Outlands, to Redwood, the nearest town to the once-village of Broadshire. The youngest rode in what carriages they managed to gather, while the rest of the children walked alongside; a caravan of sorts, winding its way across the plane over the next two days through a light mist of rain. Cathra, uneasy around such a blatant reminder of the massacre, had stalked ahead to town, so as for them to not to be too much of a surprise, as the rest rolled slowly along the well-worn road.

Across the journey, their companions did what they could to keep the children entertained, to keep them from retreating into themselves; Tiana speaking of her experiences on the road, Cairon giving lessons on animal life, Jreen generally roughhousing and playing with them all during times stopped. So it was that it almost wasn’t even noticed when they reached Redwood, the wagon of once-purloined voidworms coming to a halt just at village’s edge. The large crowd quickly drew the attention of locals, humans and dwarves swarming out to see the visitors.

Cairon slid from the wagon, darting towards the others as Jazaka and D’Shyre gathered the children together. Smiling, he nodded towards the town. “This’s it. This’s the place that sells-...that sold us iron.“ His expression faltered, but only for a moment as he stroked Samson’s head protruding from his vest pocket. “Lotta humans here, lotta dwarves. That’s th’Dwarven Mountain off that ways, ‘s where some of their gods keep home. And there’s th’Hinterlands off th’other way, all that mist on th’horizon. Marks th’edge of th’plane. Supposed t’be odd things off that way, I hear.”

Trasal peered off towards the mountain, nodding as he twirled his cane in one hand. “You’ve been here before, then?”

“Nah, ‘fraid not. My dad’d make the trips a few years back, he usually went alone t’have more room to haul. Was s’posed to go with him last time he went, ‘bout five months ago, but I’d been in trouble for tryin’ t’make Cath-...er...for no reason.” His cheeks turned a bit rosier as he continued, “But...yeah, since then, they always came t’us ‘stead.”

“Jreen never spoke much with dwarves. Met some once.” He wrinkled his snout. “Hard to eat. Too tough, like stale bread. Jreen could swear there was rock in their bones.”

Cairon could only stare in horror. “...y’ate a dwarf?”

Jreen shrunk into his shoulders, shrugging. “Tribe ambushed travelers for supplies, and dwarf died. Would be wasteful not to eat him. And offensive.”

“...perhaps don’t speak of that to others, friend Jreen.” Trasal watched Jreen with raised brows, as Cairon continued to stare. “Others likely would not be as...understanding as our merry band.”

“Mmph. Fine.”

Stepping ahead of the caravan, Tiana guided Jazaka along to the village square, where Cathra stood near an older dwarven woman, her graying hair braided down below her waist. Looking across the square, Cathra waved off to the woman, stepping quickly past the two with little more than a quick wave on her way to the wagon. With an amused sidelong glance, Jazaka let her by as she and Tiana walked towards the dwarf, nodding with a slim smile. “Hello. It appears our friend has met with you, and told you of why we’re here?”

“Yes, quite. A sad tale.” Sighing, she stepped forward, taking each of their hands in turn. “Such a shame. Still, I’d still wish to welcome you all to Redwood. I’m Ganet, and I guide this village.”

Jazaka nodded. “Thank you. I hope you are able to help us. We have twenty-five children here in dire need of care we simply can’t provide, and we need to find proper homes for them. They’ve been through a horrible situation, and they deserve whatever peace they can find.”

Glancing back to the group, Tiana looked a bit wistful. “Sheriff D’Shyre has offered to remain with them as well, to help see to their well-being. He’s an honorable man.”

“Mm. We’re happy to take them in. I’ve spoken to many families here who have offered to house them, and for those we haven’t yet found space, we still promise them a place to stay. It’s simply a horrible thing what happened. Many here had family or friends in Broadshire, and to learn of this...I don’t even have the words for it. ‘Tragedy’ hardly seems enough for it.”

Jazaka sighed, lightly shaking her head. “Very true. I knew them for only a short time, and even then. In any case, though, I don’t believe the rest of us will be staying long. We plan to follow after those that attacked, and seek retribution.”

“It was a tremendous injustice.” Tiana glowered, sighing. “We can’t allow it to remain untried.”

“Understandable. You will have full hospitality while here, though. Your rooms at the inn are arranged, and you will have clean beds and hot meals until you’re ready to leave.”

Bowing her head low, Jazaka takes Ganet’s hands. “Thank you. I believe one of our companions, Cairon, also wished to speak with you on something?”

“I’ll speak with him, then. If you have anything else, please come find me.”

“Of course.”

And with a nod, the two left Ganet, returning to the caravan, spirited for the time ahead.

Over the next days, the survivors of Broadshire settled into Redwood as best as they could manage. Cairon offered his services to the smith in exchange for a reasonable amount of pay, devoting his earnings to getting the children on the right foot; taking his lead, Jreen offered similar to the town’s apothecary, while Cathra provided money from somewhere she refused to speak on, and Cairon didn’t care to ask to. Meanwhile, while Jazaka kept herd over the children, Trasal and Tiana spoke with Matt to the various families of Redwood, seeking homes where possible, and housing where not. It was a difficult time for all, especially the youngest amongst the children, with many difficult conversations on the part of Matt. Though he gave what he could of himself, this would never truly end happily for any involved. Merely as close as could be brought.

Cairon, of the adult survivors, showed the most strain amongst them; between his work, he helped his sisters settle however he could. Looking for work, food, goods, whatever was needed. Over time, though, he only grew increasingly uneasy with the thought of them staying in a family of strangers, as did they. Though he couldn’t deny a spot of selfishness, he still couldn’t help but force himself to speak with the sheriff, to try and convince him to take them in himself. He may not have been family, but even Cairon could admit to himself, as much as it hurt, that he was still the closest thing left to a parent.

Though there was a bit of reluctance - worries of favoritism, of not offering enough care to the other children - in the end, he agreed, with promises from Hanna, and even Zara, to both see to the others themselves, to watch over them as closely as would Matt. As they had always wished to do, of course, and yet.

And so it was that Cairon had some confidence in the future for the first time since the horrors when he returned to the sitting room of the Redwood Inn, to discuss with his newfound colleagues what was to come next. Trasal waved him over as he approaches, and he soon found a seat at the round table near the back, giving each in turn an uneasy smile. “So...time t’talk ‘bout th’next stop, eh?”

Cathra grunted, leaning back in her chair. “I’m still votin’ Sigil. Plenty of lanned folk there, they’d got to know somethin’.”

“Plus, y’ve wanted t’ see Sigil near your whole life.”

She snorted, but gave Cairon a half-smile, saying nothing further.

“Sigil isn’t a bad idea,” Trasal said to the party. “But I wouldn’t say it ought to be our first stop. The baatezu were here in the Outlands for a reason; it would then stand to reason, we ought to see about where else they might’ve stopped.”

“I spent a good deal of time talking with merchants here.” Jazaka leaned on the table’s surface, getting as good a view of each as she could in the room’s dim light. “They often travel hither and yon, though it took me some time to find one with much experience beyond the nearest villages. He suggested a few names, but one stood out to me. Plague-Mort.”

Tiana nodded quietly, considering this, as Trasal turned the name around in his head, considering its potential. Cairon, though, merely blinked, blank. “Int’restin’ name for a place.”

Jreen grunted, oddly discontent at the suggestion. “Jreen knows the city. Gate-town to the Abyss. Home to tanar’ri. Demons,” he spat out, just holding himself from snarling. Trasal and Tiana both raised their brows to Jreen, but said nothing as he continued, reluctantly, “Jreen can...see why to visit. Demons hate devils. Would watch them closely. Track them. But...Jreen does not like the thought of it.”

“Nor do I, Jreen. They’d be no friend to Tiana or I. Law holds little sway to such beings.”

With a quiet voice, Jazaka bowed her head to Trasal, looking almost amused. “I can understand your discomfort. But remember that it was beings of Law which committed this atrocity. I’d wager we’re safer heading into Chaos than away from it at the moment.”

Though Tiana scowled to herself at the suggestion, Trasal inclined his head to her wisdom in turn, tapping his cane lightly on the table. “Very true. And Jreen is also correct; those of Chaos would know well the movements of an army of baatezu.”

“...not that I like th’idea of a city leadin’ to th’land of demons, but still a city of livin’ folk, aye, Trasal? ‘S it so dangerous?” Cairon looked wary, cautious, as he appraised the half-elf.

“Ah...” Trasal pauses, considering his wording. “How would I say...it’s a city likely as not to shank you. Murder you. Sell your bleeding, still-warm body for profit should you walk into the right alley. And Furies forbid should you walk into the wrong one.”

“...oh.” Cairon fell quiet, as Cathra chuckled to herself, fiddling a coin between her fingers.

“Not Sigil, but sounds good to me. ‘Sides, it’d be good to see a real...city for...” She trailed off, holding her coin carefully balanced on the back of her fingers, letting the thought fall as memory sinks in.

Cairon, for his part, seemed not to notice, looking again to Trasal with newfound interest. “...d’you think they’d have work there? Smithin’s a good way to make money...ought to keep in practice.”

“...ah...yes, I...suppose they might. Though...we...may not wish to draw attention to ourselves.” He stared back at Cairon, leaning in. “You did hear what I said, yes, friend?”

“Yeah, yeah, but practice’s important! And sounds like they’d have plenty call for weapons, aye?”

Jazaka peered across the table in Cairon’s direction, her head quizzically tilted. “I don’t believe taking on jobs while we search for those willing to raze an entire village is wise, Cairon.”

“Why not? I mean...I’m not good at talkin’ t’folks to turn up clues or what. That’s for folks like Trasal, or Tiana, or Cath. But I’m good at makin’ a spot of jink to help us keep going. If I can help keep us fed an’ keep a roof over our heads...that’s jus’ as important, isn’t it?”

“I...you do have a point.” She smiled, sitting back. “I apologize. I’d thought you hadn’t...”

“Nah.” He grinned, beaming to Jazaka. “I know what I’m good at an’ what I’m not. ‘S important t’make sure we c’n keep goin’, danger or no.”

“Well, then.” Trasal stood, leaning on the table. “We’re settled, then. We leave for Plague-Mort tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

The ninth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

The journey out of Redwood was quiet. Painful. Emotional. Promises made, hugs exchanged. Even Cathra wasn’t ignored, as Hanna refused to let her go without one, to her surprise.

Their first day on the road couldn’t help but be dour as a result. Even Jreen seemed to lack for energy, given the nature of their destination. The clouds overhead were no help, threatening a rain that never came, and casting a pall over the party as they rolled along the trail on the wagon they’d...negotiated for before leaving the would-be smugglers to find their way back to Xaos. Cairon, perhaps to no surprise, showed a certain talent for driving horses, granting at least a speck of cheer to him as they left further Chaosward, following well-worn paths.

Travel along the Outlands is strange to most who have never been. Surroundings of a given town are stable at any given moment. What you see to the horizon, you'll always see to the horizon; at least, it's as true as it is in any Prime world. But locations where none dwell are never held still, to the disgruntlement of trade companies and cartographers the multiverse over. Without the eyes of others upon it, the landscape seems to be born anew each time. One voyage, the road from one settlement to another may be half a week away, and the next, two full weeks. Clime remains constant; terrain, environment, weather. The general truths of a place remain. But the fine details can never quite be pinned down for those areas unimportant enough to take steady attention from neither mortals nor immortals alike. Topography varies, always feeling proper, but never quite consistent were someone to take special attention. Even those aspects that ought be formed by the actions of others can alter in ways nonsensical to a Prime: a worn trail may be straight through fields one month, and the next month winding around hills through that same land. And in both cases, that path seems just as old and just as well-trod. Is the path reshaped? Are they different paths having been trod by different people? Even the greatest sages on the Planes can't answer that.

On this particular voyage, to their favor, travel seemed straightforward, even if the weather seemed portentous. Their own trail kept itself fairly straight. Some minor dips, a short bridge over a slow river, a pleasant copse of trees. Perhaps a good omen, to Trasal’s thoughts.

Where the first day was dour, the second was a step towards pleasant, marked by a brief downpour in the moments after breaking camp that, oddly, seemed to cheer the lot; even Cathra, despite her grumbling over it. The mood continued on into that evening, with quiet chatter around the campfire as Trasal regaled the group with stories of his travels with Tiana, and as the survivors of Broadshire seemed to do their best to, for the moment, not think on their loss.

As his most recent tale, regarding their pursuit of a gnomish clockwork engineer and his pickpocketing spider-bots, built to its overdramatic climax, Tiana only just holding in a laugh as she watched Trasal’s dramatics, his story was interrupted by a sudden yelp from the shadows and a mild eruption of flame.

Trasal whirled in place, halting his sudden flourish and sheathing his cane-sword. “Jreen? What have you managed to do now?”

Grumbling, Jreen approached the campfire, patting out flames licking at his clothes. “What makes Trasal think Jreen did something?”

He stared, with a sharp raise of a brow.

“...yes, fine, Jreen was doing alchemy work. Had idea for improved lantern fuel! Perhaps too strong. No harm done.”

Cairon chuckled, shaking his head. “Jreen, y’r tail’s still burning.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “...ah. Yes.” Quenching it with a squeeze of his hand, he looked back to the party. “No significant harm done.”

As Cathra laughed openly, near-doubled over, and Tiana simply boggled, Cairon shook his head, laughing. “You’re gonna burn y’rself bald, Jreen! Imagine how that’d look.”

“Jreen is fine! Jreen simply mislabeled a vial. Minor explosion.”

“Science seems pretty dangerous, Jreen. Y’set y’rself on fire much?”

He fell quiet, staring upwards as he thought, and Jazaka snorted. “If you have to count, Jreen, it was far too many.”

“Y’do it too often, it might not grow back one day!”

Jreen shook his head, moving towards the fire. “No, Jreen’s fur grows at very prodigious rate. Would shed anyway if not burned. Possibly because of Jreen’s mutagens? Jreen has not determined yet.”

“Well, I bet it’ll slow down an’ stop if y’keep burnin’ y’rself.” He sat himself at Jreen’s side at the fire, grinning. “Bet that’s science.”

“It hasn’t so far.”

“Just ‘cause y’ain’t burned it enough yet.”

Shaking her head, Jazaka sat at Jreen’s other side, looking towards Cairon with a tilted head. “You shouldn’t encourage him, Cairon. It’s bad enough he does it by accident,” she said, turning to look towards Jreen.

“C’mon, it’d be pretty funny if he was all bald like us, y’gotta admit.”

Jreen stared to Cairon, mouth quirking. “Jreen will eat Cairon’s hands if Cairon sets Jreen on fire. Or shaves Jreen.”

Nervously laughing, Cairon shook his head. “Hey, y’set y’rself on fire enough already, y’don’t need my help on it.”

Rolling his eyes, Trasal looked to them across the fire. “Can you manage not to attack each other tonight?”

“Hey, Jreen started it! ‘E’s all...what’s it called...paranoid!”

“Rightfully paranoid! Cairon said Jreen would look funny if Jreen was bald.”

“Jreen. Friend.” Cairon leaned over, grinning. “Imagine Jazaka covered with fur. ‘S funny, isn’t it?”

Quiet for a moment, he snickered, soon erupting in a chuckle.

“See? Doesn’t mean I’m gonna go gluin’ fur to her.”

“Wait! Jreen has alchemical thing that would...” Pulling a vial free and gulping it down, Jreen’s form shifted, soon leaving him in the shape of a lizardfolk much like Jazaka, though coated in a fine layer of fur.

Cairon erupted into laughter, and said, “Oh, you’re a beautiful lizard, Jreen. Be Trasal next!”

But Jazaka glared towards them both, frill pulsing. “You two are rude, and some things were told in confidence!”

Cairon looked across Jreen to Jazaka, his laughter cut short. “Oh...no! No, ‘s not what I meant, Jazaka.” Apologetic, he circled around, slipping between her and Jreen and pulling her into a hug with one arm. “No, we’re just jokin’ around is all.”

She harrumphed, but didn’t pull away, her frill twitching in mild amusement as she looked to Cairon. “...you’d look funnier with scales than I would with fur anyway.”

Cairon couldn’t help but snicker at that image, offering a grin to Jazaka as she snickered herself under her breath. He pulled Jreen into the hug, the disguise rippling and Jreen giving a mild yelp of surprise. “Careful about interrupting disguise! Feels strange. Like water on fur.”

“Like a bath, eh? Maybe a good thing!”

“Baths are human thing. Not good for gnolls.” Raising a still-scaled brow, Jreen grinned to Cairon. “And Jreen thinks if Cairon thinks it’s a good thing, Cairon ought to try it, then; Jreen is still working on allowing others to use Jreen’s extracts...”

“Oh?” He sat up a bit straighter, with a broad smirk. “Can I be Cathra? Make me Cathra an’ I’ll try it.”

All eyes fell on Cairon, along with a few grins; even Tiana glanced over, chuckling quietly under her breath.

“...what’s everyone- Oh!” Cairon's cheeks flushed pink as he shook his head quickly, letting out a sharp laugh. “Not...no! No, I meant...meant for pranks! T’mess with her, or get her in trouble, or...” He fell to grumbles, burying his face in Jreen’s side as Jazaka laughed quietly beside him.

Shaking his head, Trasal glanced about in confusion at the surprising lack of response from one in particular. “...where did she go, anyway?”

“...Jreen isn’t sure. Cathra was here when Jreen returned...”

At that moment, Cathra stumbled from the brush, scrambling back to her feet just ahead of a very angry beast charging behind her. The others quickly reached for their gear, the mood broke, all recognizing the animal quickly as a danger to the lot of them: a fhorge, an Outlander boar with ridged tusks, a horrid temper, and a massive territorial streak. A young one, this seemed, standing no taller than three feet at the shoulder, but the risk it posed the group already showed as it caught up to Cathra, tusk tearing at her side.

Jazaka moved quickly to Cathra’s side at the scent of blood. The fhorge slowed in its charge as it began to pace, seeing the many others surrounding it. It snorted, glaring to Jreen as the largest of their number.

“Jus’...jus’ the one. Saw somethin’...movin’ around th’bushes.” Cathra clutched at her side, hissing air through her teeth as Jazaka began drawing supplies from a pouch.

“Cathra, she...?” Cairon’s gaze jumped from the fhorge to Jazaka and back as he grabbed his crossbow from the dirt, loading it quick as he could.

Cathra looked to Jazaka, worried, as Jazaka felt gently at the wound, listening to Cathra’s reactions. She nodded, calling quickly.. “It only just scraped the muscle, no deeper. Nothing punctured.”

As Jazaka checked over Cathra, Jreen set his spear just as the fhorge charged at him, catching it in the leg just enough to force it to veer away. With falchion drawn, Tiana darted up, thrusting for its side but hardly able to make more than a gash as it at it wove madly.

From Cathra’s side, Jazaka closed her eyes and lifted her own, slimmer crossbow, her breathing stilled. Cathra began to scramble away as the beast’s wild run brought it closer to the two of them, daggers drawn, but Jazaka quickly fired as it drew near, the bolt striking the beast dead on in the forehead, between the ridges of its thick skull, and ending its life in an instant as it stumbled to the ground, sliding to a stop just short of the pair.

Her heart racing as realization set in, she clambered away, back to her feet, dropping the crossbow to the ground and nervously brushing the dirt from her skirt. “I...I suppose I was...lucky, hm?”

“...aye...uh...thanks, Jazaka.” Cathra could only stare in shock, though that soon turned into a wince as her latest adrenalin surge began to fade.

“...oh! Oh, your...” With an arm around Cathra, she reached again for her healer’s pouch, leading Cathra back to the fire. “Here, I’ll bandage you. You’ll be fine.”

Jreen broadly grinned to her, eagerly passing by with skinning knife drawn, while the remaining watched Jazaka with newfound surprise. As Jreen finished the brain-dead creature to end its suffering, Trasal offered an understanding smile, taking a seat beside the uneasy lizardfolk.

“Well shot.”

“...luck.” Jazaka focused on the wound, cleaning it before applying a poultice that smelled of mint.

He nodded, not wishing to press, but still hoping to ease her clear distress. “Luck. Your first hunt?”

“What? Oh...no.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “No, hunting is a way of life in the swamp.”

Trasal looked with some confusion; he’d been sure it was a discomfort with the idea, but now he’s lost. “Ah, well...if you need help?”

“No, I’ve studied healing for ages.” The wound clean, she began to stitch. “But thank you.”

“Good hunt, Cathra!” Jreen called from the now-skinned beast as he butchered, delighted. “Meat for days for group!”

“...y’re...welcome?” She shrugged, wincing lightly at every slight prick of the needle.

“Don’t strain yourself for the next week, Cathra, or you’ll tear this.” Bandaging her waist and setting the gauze, Jazaka sat back on her haunches. “The pain should be a bit lessened as well.”

She nodded, letting her shirt fall back as Jazaka finished, fingertips running along the stitched wound beneath the bandage. “Ah...yeh, thanks again. Think I’ll jus’...sit for a spell, then.”

Nodding, Jazaka returned to her crossbow, watching it for a long moment before shouldering it and returning to the group, not meeting the eyes of any as she stared into the fire.

As Jazaka settled, Cathra looked back towards Jreen and the dead fhorge and frowned.

“...why’s he look like a furry lizard?”

Chapter Text

The thirteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

The party pressed on across the fields of the Outlands, the weather growing increasingly uncomfortable as they approached the gate-town to the Abyss. The heat grew heavy in the air; odd to Cairon and Cathra’s experience this late in the year, but known to Trasal and Tiana. Around Plague-Mort, the heat was never banished, not truly. The flames of the tanar’ri could never entirely be quenched in this portion of the plane, teetering on the edge of Neutrality and threatening at any moment to tumble over into the depths. Day rolled to day, as Cairon found the horses incrementally, but notably, more reluctant to press on; not enough to impede their progress, but enough that they required a bit more urging, a bit more reassurance as they grew nearer to the city.

Staring ahead to the horizon, Trasal let out a sudden wince, turning away from the site ahead as he rubbed his forehead. “We’re near now. The rest of you ought see it soon. And Tiana, I’d suggest to you not to look to the auras-”

With a sharp hiss through her teeth, she scowled, gripping the reins of her own horse tightly as she tore her gaze downwards, eyes squeezed shut as though she'd just looked to a sun. “Too late.”

It wasn't long before the city showed itself in plain vision to those able to spy it. First through the massive keep reaching above the horizon to the heights above, and soon in the thick wall surrounding it, spiked and spired, guards in vicious armor pacing along it with barbed, serrated halberds in hand. The keep towered so great above the city, the shadow it cast could be seen to reach even beyond the city walls. Here the heat was greatest, scorching the six as sweat poured from the foreheads of those who could.

Though his excitement hadn’t yet faltered for a moment, now Cairon showed a bit of trepidation. “Shadow’s...nice, ‘least. Means...not quite as hot, eh?” With a quiet, uneasy laugh, he glanced to his side. “...Are we gonna be alright in there, Trasal? Seems a bit...intimidatin’”

He offered no word, though Cathra leaned ahead between the two, arms on their shoulders, eyes wide in interest. “How can y’not like this? It’s...” She laughed, and Cairon had never seen her quite so delighted. Though he might not quite understand her reaction, simply seeing her like this was a reassurance all on its own.

Ahead, near the trail, Jazaka was the first to spy the simple shaft of wood plunged into the ground at an angle, a broken plank literally hung from it, scrawled with handpainted letters. Letters sharp and swooping, splashes of paint splattering the bare surfaces. “Do any of you read this? I’ve never seen the language.”

Inspecting it, Trasal shook his head. “Abyssal, I’d assume; it seems familiar to what I’ve seen of it.”

Jreen quirked his head from the far side of the wagon, circling around it to see. “Abyssal? Jreen reads Abyssal. Was taught when young.”

“Oh? You hadn’t mentioned.”

“Mm.” He glanced across the sign, leaning on his spear, as he took in the lines of scrawled text; the wagon paused, the party watching curiously. After some moments, scowling, he stood straight, circling back to his spot at the wagon’s left.

“...what did it say, Jreen?” Trasal looked at him with some confusion, as Cairon drove the carriage back to action.

After a long moment, he replied. “‘Welcome’.”

Jazaka tilted her head. “...the writing seemed awfully wordy for simply saying ‘Welcome’.”

He was quiet for another long stretch. “Was badly misspelled.”

The rest of the party fell into silence at that, merely pressing on ahead towards Plague-Mort.

Time passed as the carriage approached the city’s gate, conversation slowly picking back up. Jazaka turned her head from companion to companion as she spoke up. “Our first step ought to be to find an inn, I think. We’ll likely be here at least a few nights.”

Trasal nodded as he glanced over his shoulder back towards her, cane lightly tapping against the edge of the seat. “And perhaps a spot of safety from the rest of the city, should we need it.”

Tiana simply raised a brow to Trasal as she rode alongside, mouth quirked in bemusement

“...yes, you’re right, that’s likely a mere dream here. Still, marginally better than speaking our plans on the open street within.”

She offered a nod of concession, looking ahead towards what little could be seen beyond the open gateway, a gate of twisted metal — silver, interestingly, rather than wrought iron — hanging precipitously above the archway.

“Bah. Y’all are afraid of nothin’!” Hopping from the carriage, Cathra sauntered ahead with utter confidence.

“Wait, Ca...th.” Cairon could only sigh, glancing towards the crossbow he left on the bench at his side, just in case.

Vaguely amused, Tiana looked across to the others of the carriage as Cairon brought it to a stop. Dismounting her horse, she followed in Cathra’s wake on foot with equal confidence, though her gleaming armor brought a spot more attention.

Reaching the guards, Cathra peered down at them; tieflings, both, a mere half-foot shorter than her, their spiked plate each emblazoned on the chest with the emblem of a snarling wolf. The nearer of the two — a man with bright-orange skin, his teeth closer to fangs — sneered to her, as the further — a deathly-pale, bald woman with horns wrapping across her scalp — held her halberd at the ready. “What’s your business here, bit?”

She smirked, not budging an inch. “None of yer business, berk. But if y’have t’know, I’m here to cut a few throats for jink. Blades o’mine just saw throat-blood th’other day, even.”

He chuckled dismissively, his opinion of Cathra clear on his face. “That so, eh? Well, ‘fraid we’ve got a bit of an entrance fee here ‘fore you can get inside.” He looked past her to Tiana, grinning broadly, showing his full mouth of fangs. “And you lot seem like a fairly well-off sort. Fancy metal, that. Must be spendy, eh, berk?”

Cairon’s eyes widened in shock as he chuckled with him, sure it was a joke. “An entrance fee? It’s a town, not a circus.”

Tiana, for her part, didn’t flinch, merely staring back impassively. “Not all that shines is gold.”

“I can see that, girlie. But if y’can afford something that shiny, y’can afford the fee.”

Jazaka, having slipped from the wagon to watch quietly, took  this moment to step forward, her hand lightly on the shoulders of both Cathra and Tiana, each glancing to her with a bit of surprise, not having heard her approach. Raising herself to her full height — easily the equal of Cathra’s, even if she rarely showed it — she flared her frills, cloudy eyes staring directly into the guard’s own. “We have no time for this nonsense. We have business in the city that is none of yours.”

Clearly unnerved, the guard gripped the shaft of his own halberd a bit tighter. “...Fair. Then...pay th’fee, and you can be on your way.”

“And how much is that?”

“...10 gold a head today.”

Jazaka snorted, flicking her head. “Steep for business travelers, no? Does that gold go to the city, or to your coinpurse?”

She offered a slight nod to Cathra, who grinned, half-drawing her punch-daggers from their sheathes. “Y’take that fee in steel?”

Unwilling to push, the guard took a half-step back, grunting. “...we can waive it this time, suppose. You’re free t’enter.”

Inclining her head, Jazaka bared her own teeth in a grin. “Thank you.” Letting her hands fall, she pressed ahead through the gate, her ‘attendants’ following behind as the carriage rolled through the archway behind them.

Cairon was torn between terror and glee, grinning to himself but leaning towards Cathra despite once they were out. “We just got here, and you’re already pickin’ fights with th’locals?”

“Gotta show ‘em you’re a real basher, not some cony off the street.”

“Y’know I have no idea what you’re saying sometimes.”

Cathra through a short punch into Cairon’s leg, snorting in amusement. “You’ll have t’pick up the Cant if we’ll be travellin’, berk.”

Meanwhile, ahead, once out of sight of the gate, Jazaka let her noble mien fall away,  her head jerking nervously as her frills fell back against her head and neck. “Gods but that was stupid.”

“Hardly at all, lady Jazaka.” Trasal grinned to her, sliding from the carriage seat now that they’ve entered town. “You handled that with utter aplomb.”

Tiana nodded, eyes flecked with amusement, speaking for her benefit. “Impressive. Perhaps you ought speak to everyone for us.” Lowering her voice just enough for the three to hear, she smiled. “If I am to be honest, Trasal and myself are hardly suited to speak for our group here. Cairon is kind and trusting; a virtue, but not something to be open of here. Cathra is quick-witted herself, comfortable, but sharp-tongued. And Jreen...” She glances across, watching as his eyes dart about more akin to prey than predator, a tension that’s been clear since they entered the city. “...something clearly concerns him.”

Her nervous laughter fading, she shook her head. “Perhaps, but I...no, that was mere-”

“Instinct?” Tiana glanced about the street as they walked, noting the eyes drawn to them and the eyes averting themselves from them alike, her good humor fading quickly as her disgust for the city sinks in. Still, she looked again to Jazaka with cheer in her voice. “Those skilled with people often find themselves drawn to roles of faith such as ours; one must to properly defend their nature, their soul, as well as their body, after all. Even should you not believe so, you have more talent in this vein than you think.”

“I...perhaps. I don’t know about...it's not quite...”

Trasal interrupted. “You were chosen for a reason, lady Jazaka.” Lightly grasping her forearm in reassurance, he beamed to her. “Trust in that.”

She seemed to draw less confidence from that than one might expect, falling silent for a spell. Her gaze remained forward, looking towards neither of them. “You may be right. I...something to think on, then.”

Across the carriage, Cathra spun about here and there as she walked along, looking to each person, each building, feeling more at home than she had in...ever, perhaps? “‘S no Sigil, but this city’s not bad!”

“Lotta tieflings here, huh?” He watched as Cathra gazed towards one looking surprisingly like herself — the height, the tail, though the horns weren’t quite right.

Lost in her thoughts for a moment, she soon broke from them, looking back to Cairon. “...eh? What’d you say?”

“Nothin’.” Grinning to her, he turned his attention back to the horses. “You go back to lookin’ around.”

Riding along the thoroughfare towards the city square, the sounds of barkers and merchants soon began to echo, yelling out wares in Abyssal and the Planar common tongue alike. Scents of meats and perfumes swirled in the air, goods hanging from stalls and wagons hither and yon, with no real sense of organization or order. Tiana led her horse alongside the carriage, nodding towards an inn and stable nearby that appeared to have plenty of room. “Cairon. Here, while the others look about?”

“...ah, yep, good idea, Boss! You lot take a walkabout, we’ll be back soon.”

Trasal offered Cairon a sharp nod, before grinning to the remaining three. “Shall we, then?”

“...Jreen thinks...yes, Jreen is...” He trails off, still hunched with nerves. With a sharp wince of realization, he quickly tugged an arm wrap over the tattoo near his shoulder, staring ahead towards a textile stand. In moments, though, he spotted the source of the scent he caught; a trio of gnolls, the lead bearing a stylized symbol around his neck rendered in blood-red steel; akin to a ‘Y’ printed in twisted iron, but with three branches reaching upwards rather than two. They soon caught equal sight of him, heading his way as the attention of the others was soon drawn.

The one at the fore peered over Jreen and the rest, judging and dismissing in the same glance, chortling in the same wheezy laugh that Jreen so often gave as he spoke to Jreen in their shared tongue. “<I don’t know you, kit. What’s your clan?>”

Bowing his head, Jreen replied, ”<Jreen is part of Bloodfeather clan. On Totem hunt to kill a giant. Jreen’s group was killed on first attempt, but Jreen survived. Helping Others in exchange for Others helping Jreen.>” He raised his head, staring the gnoll in the eyes. “<Jreen will succeed in Totem hunt. All else is no stranger’s concern, even a shaman’s.>”

The shaman chortled again, as the rest of Jreen’s companions looked on in silence; even if they were unfamiliar with the words, the tone and body language communicated much itself. “<The kit says it’s none of our concern, eh? Bloodfeather, you say? I don’t know them, but they must be a poor clan if you were the only survivor of your hunt.>”

Flinching, Jreen fought down the surge of righteous anger, as Cathra spoke up. “Somethin’ wrong, cutters?”

Glancing to her, the shaman sneered. “Nothing is wrong, monkey. I’m merely speaking with your friend Jreen here.”

“That so, dog?” Cathra smirked, resting a hand on the grip of a punch-dagger. “All friends, right?”

While his attention was taken, Jreen took the opportunity to palm a vial from his pouch, taking a subtle drink quickly when eyes were off him. Meanwhile, Trasal stepped forward to Cathra’s side, head held high. He stared back at the trio of gnolls, and a flame seemed to flare in his eyes as his expression shifted darkly, his voice tinged with a menace none of the party had heard yet. “Yes, all friends. But I would suggest you retreat before that changes. People disappearing in a city such as this...sadly common, no?”

Gripping Trasal’s shoulder, Jreen stepped forward, holding himself straighter than usual; perhaps taller, even, with utter confidence. With a short shake of his head to Trasal, he peered down to the shaman, who suddenly cringed a little, head just lightly bowed. Pulling the arm-wrap back up, he showed a now-unfamiliar symbol; the same three-branched ‘Y’ as worn by the shaman, black as soot and standing prominently through his bleached fur. “<Peace, Shaman. We are here on business. We thank you for your...help.>”

Put off, shocked, the shaman nodded, as the rest of the group looked on in newfound confusion. “<...yes. Of course. I hadn’t known.>”

Jreen snorted, hiding the symbol once more. “<Move on. And do not speak of Bloodfeather clan.>” With a sharp glance, he stepped away, ignoring now the three gnolls.

“<Yes...yes.>”

As they pushed past with hardly a glance to Jreen, Jazaka looked bemused, tilting her head towards him. “What was that all about, then?”

Trasal watched Jreen for a moment, silent. After a long spell, he asked with a single word, “Yeenoghu?”

Looking near-sick with disgust, Jreen’s form shifted once more, back to his usual form. “Shaman of...that one.” He turned to the others, saying simply, “Enemy of my clan.”

Trasal looked to him with question in his eyes, but Cathra broke the moment with a derisive snort, peering off after the gnolls as they stepped back into the mass of people about the square. “Coulda warned us ‘bout somethin’ like that earlier.”

Jreen looked to Cathra, but said nothing, instead simply moving on along the stalls.

Tying up the carriage’s mounts and blocking the wheels, Cairon stepped back, beaming to Tiana. “So, you wanna talk t’the guy, Boss, or should I?”

Half-smiling, Tiana stepped away without an answer, approaching the inn’s entrance. She stopped short for just a moment, peering at the sign engraved in both Abyssal and Planar above the doorway — “Eye of the Dragon” — and the shriveled, but recognizable, sphere mounted just beside it. Suddenly uneasy, she fought off a shiver, refocusing herself and taking a slow breath. She walked in, Cairon close behind, hearing him gasp sharply as they both entered at the sight just ahead of them both; ears from nearly every species she’s heard of, and a few she’d never seen, all severed and nailed to the wall before her, each so far as to be noted and dated even.

Keeping stoic, she turned away, towards the innkeeper, taking a brief moment to shot Cairon a wary gaze to keep calm himself. She nodded to the man tending the desk, a scarred drow with an impatient sneer. “Need a room?”

She nodded again, leaning on the desk, staring him down as Cairon stood behind her. “Six.”

“Five silver apiece per night. Three more for meals.”

“Both for each, then.” Reaching to her pouch, she dropped the five gold before him.

Giving her a silent look, he peered beneath the desk, snatching a half-dozen keys from a loose bin and sliding them across. “Rooms are marked. Down the hall or down the stairs.”

With a sharp nod, and without thanks, she gathered the keys, handing one to Cairon as she stepped back and out the door. Cairon hurried after with a sharp nod, swallowing down his own thanks as he followed.

“...interestin’ decor.”

“Mm. Let us rejoin the others.”

“...sure.” Nodding, he pocketed his key as he peered ahead, trying to pick any through the square. “Guess...thought it was a bit rude, but guess that’s normal here, eh?”

Tiana nodded absently, glancing about at all around them, watchful for any threats — anything from pickpockets to muggers to worse. “Courtesy means two things in a place such as this. Either weakness or insult.”

He chuckled quietly, as he finally spotted Jazaka through the crowd, more conscious now of the crossbow strapped to his back. “No wonder Cathra likes it here.” He waved through the crowd to her, soon spying the rest. “Speaking of, there they are!”
Cathra began weaving through with a sly grin, grabbing Cairon’s arm soon as she reached him. “C’mon, I found something.”

“All right, b-” Before Cairon could say more, Cathra was pulling Cairon away just as the rest reached Tiana. Trasal laughed under his breath as Jazaka listened after them with amusement, glancing towards Tiana. “All well?”

She nodded, handing keys to the three of them. “And you?”

Jreen frowned, nerves at first holding him back before speaking. “There was...incident. But Jreen resolved it.”

Tiana nodded, waiting for him to continue, and looking to Trasal inquisitively when he refrained.

“...later.” He jerked his head back, grinning. “Let’s catch up before they get themselves in too much trouble.”

“...Jreen thinks he will head to inn. Jreen will see friends later.” Half-frowning, he started off for a moment before Jazaka took his arm.

“Do you mind leading me there? I think I’d like to sit myself.”

Fighting off a nervous cringe, he nodded, as the two walked off from the square.

Ahead, Trasal and Tiana could hear Cathra’s snickering well before seeing her. “C’mon, I’m sure you’re as hungry as I am.”

A merchant’s pitch cut through shortly after, as the two caught sight of their companions. “There’s nothing better after a long travel than a few slaad eyes!”

“...uh.” Cairon stared into the bin, as it stared back to him; hundreds of spheres, the size of a large marble even dried.

“Would you like a free sample, sir? Just the one, mind.”

Cathra grinned, leaning in and lightly shoving Cairon forward at the small of his back. “‘S free, isn’t it?”

After a moment, he managed to shrug. “Why not?” Reaching into the bin, he grabbed one, popping it into his mouth as he began to chew. Cathra watched with a glee that quickly faded with Cairon’s delight. “Huh! ‘S not bad! Kinda tastes like bacon. How much?”

“...mmph.” Scowling, she looked over as Cairon had a bag filled, grinning again as Tiana approached. “...hey Blondie, bet you’re hungry, eh? How ‘bout an eyeball?”

Cairon stepped from the stall, small paper bag in hand, quickly swallowing as he approached Trasal. “‘S neat place, huh? Never saw so many folks all together.” Grabbing another from the bag, he held it near his vest pocket, letting Samson snatch it from his fingers.

Trasal chuckled, shaking his head. “I have to admit, Cairon, I expected you’d be more overwhelmed.”

“...I mean, ‘s a lot t’take in, yeah. But ‘s all so new too. Why I wanted t’start adventurin’ in the first place, y’know? Wanted to see things an’ help people, an’ we’re doing both.”

Trasal was momentarily interrupted by a loud grumble of irritation from Cathra, stalking away as Tiana swallowed her own sample with surprised delight; smirking, he shook his head again, looking back to Cairon. “And you’re...dealing well?”

“...mm.” Cairon frowned, taking a moment as he looked to Trasal's eyes. “...comes an’ goes. Nights’re the worst. But...’s like you said, eh? Can’t focus on what happened, gotta focus on what’s t’come.”

“Good.” He gripped Cairon’s shoulder, looking up to meet Cairon’s eyes. “But if you ever need to talk, I’m there.”

Half-smiling, Cairon laughed under his breath. “Thanks, Trasal. ‘M fine now, but...who knows, yeah?”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I ought to make sure Cathra doesn’t get herself into trouble.”

Cairon scoffed, digging through the bag for another slaad-eye. “Good luck.” Still laughing, he looked about, engrossed at the site of (what seemed to be) an actual full-on demon, before a light tap on his shoulder got his attention. “Eh? Oh, hey, Boss.” He grinned, glancing to the paper bag she was sliding into her pack. “Good, huh? Never woulda thought!”

“Eh? Oh...” She smiled, her eyes oddly uneasy, absently licking a bit of salt from her lips. “Yes...quite so. Though Cathra seemed as though she’d rather I have poisoned myself. I don’t quite understand that one...” She watched as Trasal trailed after Cathra, and Cathra “accidentally” kicked his cane from his hand. “...But I was actually hoping you might be able to help? Now that the others are busy.”

“Me? Well...sure, suppose! How’d I be able t’help you, though?”

“Well...” She laughed, sounding a tad awkward; for the first time since Cairon met her, it sank in that she was hardly perhaps a year older than him. “I’d hoped to...find a gift?”

His grin broadened, and he said teasingly, “Oh, a present, eh? For who?”

“Ah...for when we return to Redwood.” Showing a mild blush, she half-smiled. “I’d hoped you’d be able to help me choose? You’d know best what h-...er...what they would like best.”

Still grinning, but choosing not to press her too hard, he nodded over his shoulder. “‘Course! C’mon, I’m sure there’ll be somethin’ good here.”

“Ah...thank you.” She followed after, the two merging into the crowd.

Some hours later, the four returned to the Eye of the Dragon, where Jreen slumped over a table, and Jazaka sat nearby, squinting at a codex held nearly right before her eyes. While Jazaka was so engrossed that she didn’t seem to even notice their return, Jreen pushed himself up, grinning to the lot of them, slurring as he shouted and raising his glass. “Hello! Friends have returned!”

“...Jreen? Y’okay?” Cairon looked to him with some concern, stepping over to the table and taking a seat beside him.

“Jreen is great! Inn drink was weak, but Jreen has...Jreen brought more! Used for wound-cleaning, but...but still works!”

Unsure whether to worry or smile, he laughed uneasily as the others settled in; Tiana left for her own room, nodding thanks to Cairon, while Trasal sat with Jreen and Cairon, the three doing their best to talk with him.

Cathra, for her part, was drawn to Jazaka, curious. “Eh, what’s that you’re readin’?”

Startled, Jazaka’s frills flared in mild embarrassment. “Oh! Cathra? When’d...” Turning her head about, she hears the others, catching their scent. “I...sorry. I was...er...distracted.”

“Saw that much.” She grinned, plopping down across from Jazaka, trying to catch a glimpse. “What with?”

“Reading. A book I’d...brought with me.” Her frills twitched, as she shoved the book into her pack; one of a few romance novels she’d brought, not that she’d say anything to the others.

“Oh? ‘S an important mission. Surprised you’ve got th’ time t’read.”

“Yes, well...there’s nothing left to do for a few hours. I’ve managed to hear tell of an information broker in the city, thanks to our innkeep, but I won’t have the chance to meet until later tonight.So I thought I’d...read.”

“Mmph.” Cathra stretched out her legs, grunting. “C’mon, tell me. I didn’t bring anything myself, I might be interested.”

“...no, I...” She laughed quietly, trying to brush back her frills. “I don’t think you’d be much interested in this.”

“Better’n nothin’! Th’market got old, and I don’t have anythin’ else to...” A grin slowly spread across her face, and she leaned in, staring at Jazaka. “How ‘bout this ‘stead? There’s a whole city out there! How ‘bout we head out, take it in, eh?”

Despite her efforts, her frills flared even more strongly. She wasn’t quite sure which option worried her more; lending Cathra her book, or heading out on the town with her.

“...well...perhaps we could...stop by the market again on the way." Her interest began to stir, and she couldn't help but let a slight smile leak through. "I didn’t even look yet for a jewelry merchant. We could take a look perhaps while we’re out.”

“Probably.” Shrugging, she hopped back to her feet, starting towards the door. “Time’s runnin’ out, though. How ‘bout it?”

Jazaka took another effort to steady her frills, tilting her head towards Cathra as she stood; in honesty, the excuse to go out might be nice. “Fine. Help me to my room first? I'd like to prepare first."

Cathra simply snorted as she doubled back and took Jazaka's arm, tugging her just a bit too quickly down the hall; Trasal glanced up at the departure for a moment, sipping at his tea — or at least the closest the inn seemed to have to it; it didn’t seem quite a popular beverage in Plague-Mort — before looking back to Cairon as he scratched behind Jreen’s ears, as though he was simply a large dog. Though looking to Jreen, he hardly seemed to mind.

“C’mon, Jreen, y’ought t’get to your room.”

“Mmph. Fine,” he said, stretching out the word in his reluctance. He laid still for a long moment, draped over the table, before quietly giggling. “Jreen can’t stand up.”

“Oh for th’love of...c’mon, y’berk.” Standing from the table, he did what he could to haul Jreen to his feet, supporting most of his bulk best he could, but had little success.

“Mmph...reach into Jreen’s pack? Take out gr...bl...green vial. Is fine. Won’t explode.”

With a suspicious glance, Cairon carefully does so, holding it cautiously in his hand; Jreen’s reassurance seemed to do little for his wariness. “What d’you want me t’do with it?”

“Give...give to Jreen.”

“Y’sure?” Cairon smirked a bit, watching as the vial bubbled lightly in the heat of his hand. “‘S won’t turn y’into a...I dunno, a bat or somethin’? Won’t make y’even more drunk?”

Jreen raised his brow, his head slumping onto its side. “No making fun of Jreen. Is cruel. Cruel Cairon.”

Looking from the vial to Jreen, Cairon shook his head, smiling to him with empathetic eyes. “Not makin’ fun. Jus’ bein’ friendly; like with Cath, aye?” He handed over the vial, Jreen giving his hand a quick lick before taking it; Cairon gave out a shocked cry, laughing in surprise as he pulled his hand back. “Wha’s that for?”

“Cairon is nice. Not cruel.”

“‘S right. Wouldn’t be cruel to you; we’re mates.”

Rolling the vial back and forth on the table, Jreen broke into a mad snicker. “Mates...” He continued to laugh as Cairon soon joined in, giving him another scratch.

“Somethin’ funny in Gnoll, then”

“Translation has different meaning, yes.” Still snickering, he sat a bit straighter, his eyes a little clearer.

“Y’gonna drink that then?”

“...maybe later. Jreen doesn’t think needed right now.”

“Y’want me t’put it back?”

He shook his head, doing his best to stand. “Help Jreen downstairs. Leave on Jreen’s bedside table.”

“Sure. But if this breaks my back, y’r healin’ me.” Cairon took the vial, slipping it into a pocket as he again tried to support Jreen; more success this time, with Jreen actually contributing to the effort.

“If this breaks Cairon’s back, Cairon can retire, as Cairon is far too old to adventure then.”

Cairon laughed, shaking his head, as Trasal looked on with a quirked smile. “Will you two need any help?” He set his cup lightly down on the table, preparing to stand.

Cairon shook his head with a grin. “Nah, thanks though. See y’in th’mornin’?”

He nodded to them both, settling back in. “Rest well, the two of you.”

Giving him a quick wave with his free hand, Cairon walked Jreen to the stairs. “‘M nowhere near too old, by th’way. Y’r jus’ too young. Y’know, both my sisters are older’n you? Human terms, you’re still little.”

Still snickering, Jreen shook his head firmly. “Because humans are silly. Silly things. No fur.”

“Y’ve got ‘nough fur for th’both of us.” He eased them carefully down the stairs, looking aside to Jreen with a quirked grin.

“Cairon is just jealous because Jreen is fluffy.”

“N-...well...maybe a little.” With a quiet laugh, he took a quick look at Jreen’s key, heading for the door. The nearer they got, though, the slower Jreen walked, his head starting to slump.

“...Jreen does...Jreen does not want to be lonely.”

“...eh?” He stopped, looking to Jreen with concern. “What d’you mean? Y’ve got us, right?”

“...Jreen has...never slept in room alone. Small room. All alone.” He started to shake a little, as Cairon squeezed his side, watching.

“D’you want me and Samson t’sleep in here with you?”

He nodded slightly. “Jreen can sleep on floor. Floor is comfy enough.”

“Ah, that’s daft, bed’s softer.”

“No, Jreen will sleep on floor. Jreen has blanket and is fuzzy, will be fine.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll take the bed, me an’ Samson, an’ you sleep on th’floor. ‘S that good?”

He nodded again, relief in his eyes, as Cairon eased the door open. Curling up at the foot of the bed as Cairon removed his armor, Jreen was asleep in moments; Cairon drifted off near as fast.

One hour flowed into another, and finally the nightmares came. Cairon snapped awake with a quiet shout, still feeling the heat of the flames on his skin, the darkness of the room a relief from the blinding light. Rubbing at his face to clear the tears, he eased his breath as best he could manage, hearing Jreen breathing at the floor. For a long spell, he sat, listening, his mind still active with thoughts of the dead and dying; eventually, he slipped from bed, curling beside him and resting his head on Jreen’s bulk. This time, sleep came much easier.

Chapter Text

The thirteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Cathra waited impatiently besides the door to Jazaka's room, toe-talons scuffing against the floor. "What's takin' you so long? C'mon, light's fadin'!"

Through the door, Jazaka replied, amused. "There's still plenty of light, Cathra. And if we're seeing the market, I'd like to look well for it."

Glancing down over her own outfit — a simple black shirt with leather vest, satin harem pants — she felt a sudden flare of self-consciousness, flitting at the edges of her thoughts. "...fine, fine. Y'bout done, then?"

In reply, the door opened and Jazaka stepped out in fresh, bright robes. "Shall we go? Maybe there'll be something we can find to look at."

"Somethin'?" Cathra shrugged, raising a brow. "It's Plague-Mort, this place was built t'outfit freaks."

"Shame, then, that there's no freaks here to outfit." With a quiet snicker, Jazaka walked down the hall as Cathra followed behind her.

"Don't snicker at me. Now c'mon, we're goin', you an' me."

Jazaka paused in thought, head quirked, wondering what might make this outing even more enjoyable. "Mm...maybe we ought speak with Tiana first? She's out of her element here, maybe she could use the time."

"...what?" Cathra scoffed in shock. "Y'wanna invite Blondie? She'd ruin everything! Her an' her...ways."

"I don't know about that. Maybe she just needs someone to show her it's all right to have a little fun."

Shoulders squirming, Cathra scowled at the thought. Jazaka's nice enough, but Tiana? It's like she's some kind of a golem, and Cathra knows she's constantly judging her. "Mmph. Won't be me."

"It might be good for the both of you, having a proper ladies' night." A grin creeped over her face; she hadn't had a proper one since leaving her sisters behind.

With a snort, Cathra said, "Not much of a lady, am I?"

"Fine, fine, a...cutter dame's night. That's a good thing, right?"

"That's not-" Moaning quietly in frustration, Cathra finally gave in, arms flung into the air. "Fine, whatever. Go call her if you want, I could care less."

Frills fluttering, Jazaka turned to look towards Cathra. "If you didn't care, you wouldn't be so sour about it. You pushed me into coming with you, so I'm pushing you into taking...Tiana..." Looking back and forth across the hall, she stepped back. "...which room is hers, again?"

Having no words to counter Jazaka, Cathra's stubbornness crumbled. With a growl of annoyance, she pointed the door out. "That one."

Jazaka stood silently, staring towards Cathra, blinking her cataracted eyes. In a huff, she took Jazaka's arm, tugging her over. "This one."

With another flutter, she lightly rapped on the door. "Thank you, Cathra." 

Moments passed with no response, and finally Cathra rolled her eyes. "'ey, you're not gonna get her attention with a weak knock like that. What if she's sleepin'?" She pounded on the door, hard enough to rattle it in its frame.

"Wh- she's not deaf, Cathra!"

Before Cathra could snap back, the sound of fast footsteps could be heard rushing towards them. The door flew open, as Tiana — free of her armor, wearing a simple yellow battle dress with leather corset — stared wide-eyed to both of them, sword drawn. "What's the matter?"

Cathra rolled her eyes, hands on her hips as she sighed. "Put it away, Blondie. Jazaka's got a question for y'."

"...eh?" Confused, Tiana lowered her sword, not setting it aside just yet.

Grunting, Jazaka almost laughed. "You look like you could use a night out too."

"...look like?"

"That's the joke, dear. Cathra's...excitement aside, even I can tell how wound you are. How would you feel about a night at the market?"

Her confusion no lessened, she furrowed her brows. "Ah...you'd like me to accompany you. Should I retrieve my armor?"

"To go shopping, and perhaps enjoy some drinks? Were you planning on getting us in any fights?"

Cathra looked almost approvingly to Tiana, and got so far as to half-opening her mouth before Jazaka snapped her head towards her.

"No."

"...I didn't say anythin'."

"You were thinking something."

"You don't know that!"

Tiana watched, waiting for their banter to fade as she sheathed her sword, tying it at her waist beside her gold pouch. "Well...alright...?"

"Wonderful!" Jazaka grinned, arm looping around Cathra's. "This will be a fun evening; thank you for the suggestion, Cathra!"

Cathra could do little more than snort. "Yeah, yeah..."

Entering the marketplace, Cathra gazed across the crowds, tail dragging across the ground. She spoke almost absently, "Feels like we're standin' out like this, th' three of us."

"What do you mean, Cathra?" Tiana turned towards her, still a tad befuddled by this entire situation.

"Well, look at us. We're all different..." She looked back and forth, trying to think the best way to say it, and falling flat as she tried. "...styles."

"...style? What sort of style?"

Jazaka laughed, grinning broadly. "Oh? What style would you recommend for Tiana and I, Cathra? Something in your own?"

"I-...well-" Embarassed, she turned deep purple, coughing as the thought of the two of them in her outfit forced its way into her mind. "...well, cold-blooded folks like you two, you'd probably freeze your dainty behinds off."

Tiana blinked, muttering under her breath, "...cold-blooded?"

But Jazaka merely snickered. "I'd more likely fall asleep than freeze, I think."

"...whatever."

Spotting a shop not far, Tiana looked to Cathra in earnestness. "Oh, would you rather perhaps have a dress of your own?"

Cathra froze in place, shoulders hunched, as her mind leapt back ten years to the words of her mother.

Do you really think you should wear something like that, Cathra?

She spoke harshly, a little louder than she intended. "I ain't wearin' no dress." The eyes of strangers were drawn to them, and she shrunk in on herself even further..

Tiana suddenly looked at her own in concern, but Jazaka hardly reacted, keeping her stride, not wishing to stir her embarrassment more than it already has. "Oh, Cathra, I'm sure you'd look lovely in a dress."

"...it's fine." Her eyes kept locked to the ground, nearly tugged along by Jazaka now. She didn't near agree, but she wouldn't say that. "Couldn't anyway...even if I wanted to."

"Says who?"

With that thing off your back? What, do you want to flash the entire village?

"...I have a tail, Jazaka." She punctuated her statement with a sharp flick of the limb, snapping into the back of Jazaka's legs. "Can't have everyone lookin' at my ass while I'm walkin'."

Stopping her inspection in self-realization, Tiana turned back to Cathra, head tilted. "I imagine you could have it fitted if you so wished, Cathra."

"She's right." Jazaka gave Cathra a mild nudge. "This is a city meant to cater to freaks like us, yes?"

Cathra had no easy response to that; the thought never even occurred to her. "...yeah, well...I ain't-"

Tiana interrupts, "Is there a color you'd like?"

Tongue tripping over her words as she slammed to a stop, Cathra looked up to Tiana in confusion. "...eh? I...I don't know...white?"

And that color? Ha. You'd look like a walking barber's pole.

She shrugged, her mind still fumbling. "I...though that'd prob'ly look like shite with my skin...but whatever, I don't...I don't even want a dress. You...you're so excited 'bout it, why don't you get one?"

"I am wearing one." She gripped the sides of her skirt, lifting them gently. "Though it's not quite for fashion...it keeps my torso protected, and the thick skirts are as padding, to better serve me in combat."

"...that...y're a berk, y'know that?"

Jazaka nudged Cathra, pulling her attention back. "What about yellow?"

"...like piss?"

She sputtered, torn between laughter and shock. "Like a daisy."

"A what?"

"...like mine." Tiana almost smiled herself.

Cathra did her best not to sneer, but it was a struggle. "...'s kinda...bright."

"Well...perhaps orange, then?" Tiana glanced over her thoughtfully. "It might go well with your complexion."

Her eyes brightened a bit as she glanced towards Tiana. "Like a wood lily?" The words spilled out quick, but Cathra flushed purple as soon as she heard herself. "Er...that's th'one...right? I-I dunno. Y'all have better taste'n me anyways."

Giving her another gentle nudge, Jazaka smiled. "You don't have to be tough all the time, you know. You can like flowers and dresses. Who's going to argue with you?" She glanced to the sheathe at Cathra's hip. "You've got...knifey-fists. It doesn't even have to be a gown, either."

"And we've arrived anyway." Tiana nodded towards the building ahead, and Cathra frowned, fingers fidgeting against her palm.

"...'m not goin' in there. They'll jus'...they won't even have anythin'."

"We'll owe you, Cathra," said Jazaka. "The next stop will be entirely your choice."

Falling quiet, Cathra mumbled out a concession and followed nervously behind her companions, peering about reluctantly as Tiana and Jazaka browsed. Though largely a seamstress' shop, a number of made wares hung all about, ready to purchase. Fit from three feet to ten, for no arms to six, with or without wings, some even marked as safe to those with a natural flame. The breadth of options took her by surprise; she'd never before seen clothing actually meant for those like her. And indeed, as Jazaka promised her, some were even already of a cut for those with tails of all varieties.

Reaching for a frock hanging beside the window, she let it dangle free, staring at it as memories flashed back. Running a finger along it, her claw caught on a loose thread.

How can you be so clumsy with those...things, Cathra? If you're not more careful, maybe we should sand them off.

With a sharp curse, she snatched her hand back, clenching her fist. Letting the frock fall away, she glanced back towards the door. Taking a short step towards the exit, she stopped in her stride as Tiana approached, burgundy and chestnut draped over her arm.

"What would you think of these one, Cathra? You seemed uneasy of a full dress, but perhaps a blouse and skirt?"

"...eh?" She was skeptical, one hand gripping the other.

"The colors would suit you, and they're cut well for your stature and build."

Jazaka looked up from a bright orange monstrosity of sequins, catching the conversation, to make her way near to look close as she can. "Oh, these are nice colors. What do you think, Cathra? There's fitting rooms in the back."

Tiana handed them carefully to her, as Cathra took on an odd, wistful expression. "I...yeah. I guess." Looking up, she started towards the rooms in back, glancing over her shoulder more than once on her way. She closed the door behind herself, tugging her tunic off in fits and starts. Holding the blouse up, she ran her fingerpads carefully, nervously, along the reddish-brown cloth. As much as she could picture it — just pulling the blouse on, just a simple movement, it's easy — her arms didn't move, and her mind refused to pull free from its track.

Stop complaining. You know how hard it is to get enough food for you anyway?

Do you have to spend so much time with that boy? That family's going to get tired of you too, you know.

Why do you have to be so...loud? Why can't you just be normal?

She began to shake, nervous, squeezing her eyes shut as she hissed quietly through clenched teeth, "Cassandra's gone...she's long dead...shut up, shut up..."

Her words were cut short at a soft rap at the door, and she jumped with a quiet gasp as Jazaka's voice carried through quietly.

"Cathra? Is everything all right?"

"I...I..." Her voice caught, and she winced at her own weakness. Shoulders falling, she took a slow breath, words shaky. "I need...help."

Tiana's voice was next to come through, her tone with more warmth than Cathra often heard from her. "Shall I come in?"

Part of her mind screamed to say yes, but her fear was too strong; she couldn't bring herself to say anything at all.

In time, Tiana spoke again. "I'm entering now, Cathra." The door began to ease open, and though Cathra's head snapped towards her, she made no effort against her as Tiana walked in. She hugged the blouse to her chest, eyes moist and cheeks stained, as the door fell closed behind Tiana, her talons squeezed cautiously into her palms. Tiana watched Cathra with a gentle smile, but she could hardly meet her eyes.

Her voice was rough, scratchy, as she spoke. "I...don't want to rip it..."

Tiana stepped towards her, reaching for the blouse, concern flickering over her eyes. "I'm certain you won't. But if you'd rather not..."

She continued to stare towards the floor, but after some moments, she briskly shook her head. "I...I want to."

After a silent moment, Tiana nodded. "Would you like me to stay?"

Cathra nodded in return, a part of her feeling humiliated. Yet, while Tiana was here, Cassandra's voice seemed lessened in her mind. She turned in place, changing carefully. The blouse settled well, but as she pulled the skirt up, she fumbled behind herself, struggling with the cord about her tail. Without word, Tiana stepped up behind her, tying it in place. Once fixed in place, she stepped back. "See yourself in the mirror?"

Stepping towards the wall-mounted mirror, Cathra looked over herself, top to bottom, hands gripped tightly. Her tail ran slowly across the floor, dragging back and forth, and Cathra couldn't help but laugh. Not loud, not aggressively; a simple, quiet laugh, short, more shock than anything else. She liked it. It wasn't just good enough. She...liked it. Words still muttered beneath her thoughts. But for the moment, at least, they were no more than whispers.

Chapter Text

The thirteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

After some hours sampling the offerings of Plague-Mort, Jazaka followed the remembered path back to the inn, carefully adjusting her new hat as a breeze threatened to dislodge it. “Come on now, we’re almost there.” She hadn’t oft had to serve as guide rather than guided, she thought as she kept her arm around Cathra’s waist. But it wasn’t as though Cathra was in much state to do so herself. And Tiana had long retired back to the inn, weary of browsing the market by the end of the second hour.

“Mm...this’s fun! Y’r fun, Jazaka! Didn’t think you were so fun...y’r a right canny cutter, Jazaka. Even Blondie was fun!” She grinned in her new outfit, tail dragging along the ground as she trailed just behind her.

Jazaka couldn’t help but be a bit amused; as streetwise a mask as she tries to wear, it was clear this was Cathra’s first time out in a city, and quite possibly her first time drunk. Her mood had only improved as the evening went on, though perhaps Jazaka ought to have tamped her indulgence some. But she deserved the good time. “It was fun. But next time, I would suggest stopping at the fifth mug.”

“Bu’ it was so good! This place, it’s...it’s so good! There’s everything here, an’...an’ there’s other tieflings, an’...tails! They’ve got tails, Jazaka? Did you see the tails?”

Jazaka laughed, tilting her head towards her. “Yes, I saw the tails.”

“So much better’n...th’ Mother’s gonna...” She fell quiet, a mild quiver in her eyes. Jazaka paused, watching her, waiting; more than once tonight, Cathra had threatened to fall again to melancholy, and each time she pushed it down, shoving it aside. Perhaps not the healthiest, but at the moment, perhaps for the best. And just like before, Cathra’s face turned hard for a moment before forcing the thoughts away and turning to a grin.

Reaching the inn, Jazaka eased the door open, taking a careful step inside. “Here we are. Do you think you can make it to your room?”

“Huh? Oh! My room...yes! Aye, I can...” Spontaneously, she hugged Jazaka tight, snickering as Jazaka was left in shock. “We’re gonna do this again! Promise?”

“Promise. I’ll be in to check on you shortly.”

With a grin, Cathra slapped Jazaka’s back roughly; Jazaka couldn’t help but laugh as Cathra sauntered to the stairs with surprising grace for her state, easing her way down.

At his table, Trasal watched the scene, amused but concerned. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine. She just needed a good night out.”

He nodded in understanding, as Jazaka moved to the main desk, ringing the bell. In moments, the scarred drow emerged, giving her a sharp nod of acknowledgement. Trasal sat silent, watching from his chair, a quiet mutter under his breath.

“Have you found a name for me?” She looked towards him with her clouded sight, making out just enough detail to see the frown that seemed to be his default expression.

“Renford. He used to scout for the Blood War some 20 years ago, before he got himself out. Still has connections with some of the high-ups in the War, though. And he’s got a...’vested interest’ in keeping up on the devils. Made a few enemies on their side. Wasn’t sure if he was still in town; he’d be your best chance.”

“Where can I find him?”

“He’s a high-up himself these days. Big name in the church of Baphomet. So I wouldn’t bring the gnoll.”

Jazaka nodded slowly, as though that meant anything to her; she could hear Trasal’s chair shift as he sat a bit more straight, so perhaps this would be worth worry. “Anything else?”

“Nothing he wouldn’t better tell you himself.”

Jazaka frowned in suspicion. “I was warned about Plague-Mort. And I’ve no interest in playing games tonight; I have a friend to take care of.”

He snorted, but didn’t seem surprised at the doubt. “I run an inn. Wouldn’t stay in business long if I took a berk’s money and didn’t give them quality in exchange. Wouldn’t keep my head long either. Abyss or not, I’m no idiot.”

Inspecting him carefully, turning his words over in her mind, she nodded. “Respectable.”

“Mm. Should I pass word to expect you, then?”

“Please.” She lowered her head slightly in thanks, sliding the second half of his fee plus a bit extra. Taking the money, the drow gave her a nod of appreciation, returning to the back room as Jazaka started for the stairs herself, jerking her head to Trasal. He joined her below, as Jazaka walked the hall. She first peeked into Cathra’s room — the door still hanging open, of course. Cathra laid there, splayed out on the bed and dead asleep. Content, Jazaka closed the door, letting it fall locked.

She continued on to her own room, Trasal close behind, joining her inside. Once the door was closed, Jazaka looked towards him, settling herself on the bed with her tail drooping across the far side. Rapping her claws lightly on the surface of her nightstand, she finally spoke. “Was he honest?”

Trasal nodded, letting his spellwork fade. “Upfront sort. No lies in his words.”

“Pragmatism’s as good as morality to me right now.” She laughed under her breath. “So. Baphomet?”

He sighed. “One of the more influential demon lords of the Abyss. A patron of minotaurs. He tends to work towards the destruction of civilization, a return to the rawness of nature,” he said, scowling and chuckling darkly at that. 

“A druidic sort, then?”

Trasal laughed sharply with a shake of his head. “Hardly. More...survival of the fittest. With the belief that anyone civilized can’t be fit.”

“Mm. And the warning about Jreen?”

“That I’m not sure the details on, I simply know there’s some form of ire between Baphomet and Yeenoghu, and so his people tend to kill gnolls on sight.”

With a mild grunt, Jazaka nodded. “We ought warn Jreen, then. I doubt he’ll wish to stay, so we’ll need make sure he takes a different form. And we’ll need be careful how we approach this ourselves, then; if this Renford is an influential member of his church here, I hardly think he’d care of a village razed to the ground, baatezu or no. We’ll have to focus on the who, not the what.”

Trasal grumbled, scowling as he paced. He looked to Jazaka, just about at eye level where she sat. “I don’t know. This seems more disastrous the deeper we get, one problem after another.”

Jazaka hissed through her teeth impatiently. “Do you have a better plan, then? Broadshire was a tragedy, but it was also destroyed for a reason. I was told to stop in the village. Told to join you all. I was meant to witness it, and I can hardly believe the town’s destruction is where this will stop.”

He paused, considering her words. Finally, with a quiet frown, he nodded. “You’re right. This is our best attempt. I loathe the idea of reaching out to this church, but it’s necessary. Tomorrow at first light, then?”

“Once Cathra and Jreen have a chance to recover, at least.” She thought quietly for a moment. “Perhaps we ought to watch them too. The lot of them. Keep them from hurting themselves by falling too deep.”

“That...may be best.” Trasal sighed quietly, shaking his head. “Cairon and Cathra have been through much. And Jreen is clearly troubled. They’re young, they all still have time ahead of them, and we should try to make sure they can reach that time. I’ll speak to Tiana on all of this before bed.”

Jazaka quirked her head lightly, wanting to say more on Cathra.  It was obvious after this evening that her troubles must be deeper than Broadshire itself, and Jazaka's heart ached whatever the cause. But she knew that, for now at least, it wasn't her place. Cathra would speak openly in time. Or she wouldn't. But it would be her decision.

Of course, a romantic such as herself also couldn't help but be tempted to ask on the nature of their relationship after such a casual comment — she’d wondered since meeting them, and their chemistry was clear, but Tiana continued to be so difficult to read — but she restrained herself. Romance could come later.

Instead, she simply nodded. “And you rest yourself. Until morning, Trasal.”

He nodded sharply in reply with a quirked grin, tapping his cane on the floor as he stepped to the door. “Sleep well, Jazaka.”

Chapter Text

The fourteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Cairon awoke the next morning, feeling more well-rested than he had been in days. Climbing the stairs to the sitting area, he could see Cathra and Jazaka already ready for the day, eating...some manner of breakfast. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, but by the look of it, he thought he’d rather not know. He waved to them as he reached the top, grinning with subdued excitement. “Mornin’!”

Cathra looked back, still quite in good cheer herself. Cairon was a bit surprised, and pleasantly so; he hadn’t seen her in such a good mood for so long in...years, easily. She seemed to be sporting a new look too, leading Cairon to wonder just how much he'd missed last night. Looked good on her, he couldn't help but think, though he banished the thought before his cheeks began to burn.

“Hey! Ready t’chat with a demon priest?”

He laughed mildly, sitting between the two at the table. “Suppose so? That what we’re doin’ today?”

Jazaka lightly jerked her head towards him between bites of...meat, probably. “I’ve found us a lead for information on the baatezu. We’ll need to be a bit careful, though-” Pausing, she looked towards the stairs as Trasal and Tiana appeared. The two sat across from the rest, plates soon brought to the rest of them. “As I was saying, I’ve found a lead, but it will be a bit touchy, so we’ll need watch our words.”

“Howzat?” Cathra quirked a brow. “We’re jus’ gettin’ th’dark on th’devils, what’s touchy ‘bout that? Folks here hate devils, eh?”

“This person hates a lot more than that too. We’ll need to warn Jreen, for one. Where is he?”

“Ah...still sleepin’.” Cairon chuckled, scratching his head. “Prob’ly gonna for a while. Didn’t know we’d be headin’ off right at th’ break or I’d’ve gotten ‘im up. Want me t’go stir’im?”

“Hm.” Jazaka thought for a spell, tapping fork against plate. “No, it might be best to let him sleep, with how he was last night. A hungover gnoll’d be even harder to disguise than a sober one. We can leave a note to inform him.”

“I believe I can tell him.” Tiana leaned forward on her elbows; less intimidating without her armor, Cairon thought, but not much. “Trasal told me of the plan, and my blood would likely make me as much a danger to the plan as Jreen.”

“Fair. Then the four of us will leave once we’re prepared. We’ll be heading to the Church of Baphomet; I’ll inform you of the details along the way.”

Cathra grinned, just about jumping in her seat before restraining herself. “Can’t wait!”

An hour later, the band of four set out towards the temple district. For the most part, it wasn't as notable as they might have expected, a number of shrines to benign Outlander powers standing much as in any large city; the city wasn’t truly Abyssal, after all, merely near the edge. Still, here there was no shame nor secrecy in the churches of various demonic powers. Indeed, many stood out with pride alongside temples to powers such as Vergadain, Semuanya, or Boccob. Worshipers flowed about, and signs and prayers alike called out in honor of the like of Graz’zt, Lolth, Yeenoghu, Demogorgon. And of course, Baphomet, his own temple a tall spire emblazoned above its door with a disturbingly-realistic rendering of a bull’s head, staring down in a fixed snarl to all who would approach, its horns etched with Abyssal runes.

Cathra stared at it with deep interest, tail twitching from side to side. “...y’think it’s...real? Do bulls come that big?”

Trasal frowned, tilting his head as he inspected the edifice. “Could be. Hard to tell.”

“Let’s not wait debating the decor.” Jazaka walked ahead, Cairon rushing up to take her arm as she moved slightly off course. Suddenly unsure of himself, though, he paused, glancing back.

“...ah...Trasal, maybe y’ought take her, actu’ly. You two are more th’posh types, an’ us...scruffy berks at th’back.”

Smiling ruefully, Trasal stepped forward to help her, as Jazaka looked towards Cairon, amused. “Just remember the first rule of bluffing: if you act like you belong somewhere, most will accept it. Even if you are a ‘scruffy berk’.”

“C’mon already!” Cathra huffed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. With a snort, Jazaka continued ahead with Trasal, and the four crossed the threshold.

Within, a single attendant stood watch in the small, darkened inner chamber, a mere guard post before the sanctum within, ensuring only proper sorts were allowed to the depths. He was a massive humanoid, a full foot taller than Cathra, staring down to the four with beady eyes, arms crossed over his massive chest. Bearing the head and legs of a bull, a strong musk swirled about him, though not enough to cloak the scent of blood wafting through the air from deeper in. In the distance, the cry of a wounded hog echoed before it was cut short, but the guard didn’t even seem to acknowledge it.

Cathra stared up with the hint of a smirk, glancing to Cairon with a whisper. “They make’em big here. Think it can talk?”

Cairon jabbed her hard in the side with an elbow as the guard grunted, glowering to the newly-energetic tiefling. “I’ve probably got more of a brain than you, girl.”

Before Cathra could say more, Jazaka cleared her throat, frills fluttering with nerves as she gazed upon the blurred silhouette. “Ignore her, her mouth moves faster than her mind. We’re here to see Renford. He should be expecting us.”

The minotaur chuckled, jerking his head to the corner, where the others of the group could just make out a spiral stair descending below. “Three levels down. The green room. And only the green room, if you value your heads.”

Jazaka sharply nodded, easing towards the stairs, muttering quietly to Trasal, “You’ll need to guide me down.”

Cathra, looking offended from the both of them, managed to bite her tongue, though she couldn't help but scowl. “...no offense meant, cutter.” She hurried off, and Cairon gave the minotaur a nod as he took up the rear.

They began their descent, Trasal talking Jazaka down, to the rumbling laughter of the guard behind them. Down three turns of the stairs, they emerged on a narrow hallway that curved out of sight after only a few steps, and much as above, the only light came from the flickering of flames hanging overhead every few feet.

Trasal sighed at the sight. “Of course, a labyrinth. I should’ve expected, really.”

Cairon frowned, checking that his crossbow was still in position but hoping it wouldn't prove necessary. “Should we worry ‘bout gettin’ lost?”

He shook his head, keeping a steady hand on Jazaka’s arm as they walked down the hall, winding this way and that, the occasional paint-splattered door standing along their path. “No, no worry about that. A true labyrinth, it would appear. No maze, simply a single path. But a very convoluted one.”

About to respond, Cairon jumped at a sudden scream from nearby; impossible to tell if it was animal or human, but the scent of blood suddenly grew much stronger. Even Cathra seemed to blanch some, arms wrapped tightly around herself as her excitement was suddenly damped.

Jazaka quailed for a moment, frills shivering, reaching across to grip Trasal’s hand. Still, her voice sounded steady, calm as she spoke. “Remember why we’re here. Set the fear aside. We speak to Renford, and then we leave. We will be fine.”

“...a...aye.” With a nod, Cairon took a deep breath, standing straighter. He glanced to Cathra, throwing her a small grin as she settled her own nerves.

The meandering path, the darkness, the stench, they all coupled to make it near-impossible to judge distance or time as they walked the labyrinth; it felt like near a half-mile before they reached the green-splattered door, if that could even be possible. Trasal gently nudged Jazaka to a stop once they found it, and she stood ready before the door, brushing at her frills.

Facing the door as she spoke to the others, she still sounded at ease, as much as her body language belied that. “So...this is it, then. Ready?”

With acknowledgement from the others, she seemed to take on almost a regal air, pushing through the door without a glance to her entourage behind.

Through, within, looked for all the world like a small, single-room hunting lodge, the tops of the walls lined with the heads of gnolls, stuffed and mounted to fix them in eternal screams of terror. About the room were draped or displayed other mementos, other trophies: skulls, teeth, jewelry, crafts, broken spearheads, defiled symbols of Yeenoghu. And at the far end, a grizzled man in blood-red leathers stared back to Jazaka and her companions from a slim wooden chair, gripping a pair of hand-crossbows, hands twitching with eagerness. He barked with laughter as the four entered. “You’re the sods wantin’ to talk about devil scum, eh?”

Cairon’s eyes flicked to the walls as his gorge began to rise, but he fought it down. Cathra, though, peered on with interest, approaching one to look more closely as Jazaka stepped forward.

“Yes. We were told you’d have information we need, and that we’d have some valuable to you. Which first?”

Before he could respond, Cathra butted in, eyes wide. “‘S real?”

With an amused sneer, he looked to the mounted trophy himself, seeming to relax a bit in reminiscence. “Ought to be. Killed the bitch myself. She was a tough one too.”

“‘S a girl?” She laughed a bit morbidly, walking the room, inspecting other displays. “How d’you even tell, anyway? They all look like fuzzballs t’me.”

Chuckling, he leaned forward. “Freaks that way, aren’t they?”

Cathra continued her circling of the room, Cairon following close behind as he chose to focus on the less blatant trophies of his kills, skin crawling from even a glimpse at the too-familiar look of the mounted heads. Meanwhile, feeling the tension in the room having lifted some — if not quite how she would've preferred it to be — Jazaka stepped forward, Trasal keeping sentinel at her side.

Renford stood, still holding his crossbows, but much more casually. “Information, aye? The Blood War, if I heard right?”

“That’s right. And we have fresh intelligence for you. A recent strike, nearly unwitnessed.”

Trasal nodded, fingers tapping against his cane’s grip. “But equal exchange is...sketchy for such fresh information.”

Shaking his head, Renford dropped a crossbow on a nearby table with a clatter. “Well, you tell me what you’ve got, an’ I’ll see what I can give in exchange.”

Jazaka nodded, unflinching, though her breath caught a bit as the weapon struck, fully expecting the bolt to fly free. “A recent strike near the Dwarven Mountain.” Renford’s eyes widened in unrestrained surprise as Jazaka continued, “A village named Broadshire. Razed to the ground, the entire adult population killed. Unprompted, no demands, no sign of d-...of tanar’ri involvement.”

He shook his head, taken off guard. “Cor...a devil attack Chaos-side, against civilians? For devils, that’s near barmy. They offend th’ law-sods or somethin’?”

Jazaka shook her head, her eyes flicking towards Cairon and Cathra as she heard them quietly squabbling over some trinket, suppressing a quiet growl at their behavior even here and now. “No warning, no discussion, and the biggest troublemakers there were these two.” Cathra glanced over from her bickering, scowling to Jazaka, but her attention was soon pulled back to Cairon. “The army marched to Broadshire, destroyed it, and left.”

“When was this?” Renford pulled open a drawer in his desk, dropping an abstraction map of the Outlands on his desk — a general layout of the relative positions of individual cities and landmarks, a common tool on those planes where more specific mapping proved impossible. Various incidents across the whole of the plane were marked and dated, with notes along each in a scrawled hand. “Today? Yesterday?”

“Near a week and a half ago at this point.”

“...what?” Renford scowled, muttering to himself as he sat back down to pull a sheaf of parchments from his desk; intelligence reports, it appeared, covered in text of various languages, none of which Jazaka had a clue of. “They struck a single village in the ass-end of nowhere a stone’s throw from Limbo, and just left?” He looked up to Jazaka, befuddled. “Thought maybe was on the way somewhere. Sometimes th’devils’ll do that, raze the local villages before striking, keep from calling in mortal reinforcements or the like. Or maybe even just on th’way, let the lower ranks let loose some steam before the real fight. But there’s been no reports of anything there. Not even anythin’ worth marching after there." Scratching his head, he stared over his reports for a moment before looking back up towards Jazaka. "Any chance it was a rogue unit? Rare, but y’see it sometimes.”

“No, no, it was too large for that. So you have nothing, then.” Jazaka snarled slightly, her frills now flared; the display only halfway a put on for her role, as frustrating as this was. “This was useless.”

He shook his head, grunting as he stood. “Nah. Devils don’t do anythin’ without a reason, and near 50 pages worth of justification an’ reports an’ orders. Someone knows what this was about. An’ there’s a few places you can go. I’ve got a few names an’ places I can drop you.”

Calming herself, she nodded, Trasal still standing beside her, silent and thoughtful.

“First off, any army marchin’ this far Chaos-side would had to have come from Gehenna. They don’t talk much on it, but it’s where they keep their forward operatin’ base for any covert Blood War strikes. I’ve got a few watchmen on it, I can put y’in touch. Y’might try gettin’ to Dis. ‘S where any orders would’ve come from, and where they would’ve been stored. Devil city, but there’s plenty of travel in an’ out.” Sighing, he straightened his back, a quick glower to Cairon and Cathra as their quiet arguing started to grow heated. “Either way, y’d probably draw the bastards’ attention, though.”

Jazaka joined the glower, sighing, before nodding to Renford. “Any advice that might not do that?”

He chuckled, half-grinning. “Y’could head up Bytopia-ways, t’Tradegate. Th’holy berks don’t like admittin’ it, but they keep merc spies in the devil ranks. Mostly thereabouts; plenty of traffic, plenty of mercs for hire, and it keeps attention off th'Mount. Ask enough questions, an’ you’ll get the attention of some Celestia sorts. ‘Course, they aren’t much fans of folks interferin’ in their affairs either. An’ it means dealin’ with all that holy shite too.”

She nods. “Anything el-”

“Mother?!” Cathra cried out suddenly, scoffing, her voice raised. “Just how’m I that lizard’s mother?”

“Y’r the closest thing to it!” Cairon looked torn, frustrated and angry and worried all at once.

“Well, if it’ll tear your stupid lizard up that much, maybe I will stay! How 'bout' that?”

Jazaka watched with shock as they burst into shouts. Her eyes narrowing, she barked out to them, “Enough!”

“Baphomet take them...” Renford stepped forward to the two, pulling them apart, before narrowing his eyes to Cairon as something caught his attention. Leaning towards him, he took a deep sniff, snarling. “...you’re covered in their stench, aren’t you? You got a little girlfriend out there? You a gnoll lover, berk?”

Cairon gaped, stumbling over his words, as Cathra held back a snicker behind his back, Jazaka glaring to both of them. “I...no, we...I...there was-”

Stepping forward, Trasal said, “We had a run-in yesterday with a trio of Yeenoghu’s followers. Cairon took the worst of it.”

“Mmph.” Renford shoved Cairon back. “Get out of here. The stench is gonna make me sick.” Looking sharply to Jazaka, he began for one of his crossbows. “Th’lot of you. Before my patience is completely gone.”

With a quiet huff, she stepped forward, gripping the arms of both and tugging them back towards the exit. “Thank you.” Trasal nodded quietly, stoicly, as he followed behind, the four heading back to the hall.

Jazaka tugged them along the hall, and once out of earshot, whirled on them both, hissing harshly with frills fully unfurled. “You two! Are you completely thoughtless?! Do you realize you could have ruined any chance of finding out who murdered your family and friends?! Or even gotten us killed?!”

Shocked into silence, Cairon and Cathra both stared off, pointedly avoiding eye contact with anyone; most of all, one another. Cathra began to speak in a quiet voice, “He st-”, only to snap her mouth closed at Jazaka’s sharp glare, shrinking into herself.

“At least show the sense a child would have. This is not a game.” Releasing them both, she turned back, taking Trasal’s arm as she muttered under her breath in Draconic, “<By Semuanya, I need a drink.>”

“Perhaps we ought gag them next time,” Trasal said, flat as a board, bringing a very mild snicker from Jazaka. Behind, Cairon and Cathra followed in silence, well-chastened, but one another's words still echoing in each other's minds. And the party walked on in silence, the moans and cries echoing around them unimpeded.

Chapter Text

The fourteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

As her companions crossed town to meet with their contact, Tiana stood before the door to Cairon’s room; she couldn’t help but be curious why Jreen was sleeping here, but it didn’t seem her place to ask further. Knocking lightly, she spoke up, concerned even from what little she’d seen of his state last night.

“Jreen? Have you awoken yet?”

The door snapped open, as Jreen peered down at her with surprisingly — almost frighteningly — lucid eyes. “Hello! Jreen is awake, yes! Are friends leaving?”

“Ah...no. Are you...” A bit befuddled, she took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I was told you were in...a state this morning.”

He tilted his head, a bit confused himself. “Jreen is always in a state. Is what states are.”

“No, I mean...” She sighed. “After last night, I’d been told you needed time to recover.”

“Oh! Yes. Jreen did. And then Jreen recovered with science.”

“...ah. Of course you did.”

“Are friends leaving, then?”

With a brief shake of her head, Tiana peered past Jreen, curious of the quiet sound of bubbling echoing within, though she couldn’t quite see anything of interest from where she stood. “No, they’d already left. A dangerous place for us, we would likely have interfered. The temple of Baphomet?”

Jreen blanched through his pale fur at the mere mention of the name, nodding quickly. “Yes, Jreen understands. When are friends to return?”

“An hour at least, I’d imagine. Possibly more.”

“Oh! Plenty of time, then! Tiana can help Jreen with more science.”

“...excuse me?”

“Yes, but later.” He ducked into the room, letting the door swing open, his portable lab set up carefully across the table: boiling liquids set over flames, gas piping through to other vessels, bubbling through and assuredly reacting in some manner. Carefully measured powder mounted above, flowing through in a slow stream like an hourglass at it dissolved into the result. Small crystals forming along the inner surface of the vessel wall, only to vanish in moments as tiny sparks of lightning arced through the liquid.

Tiana watched with intense curiosity as Jreen adjusted the heat, and pulled a tiny portion of the liquid out with a slim dropper, dripping it upon a strip of waxy-looking paper and noting something down as it tinted to orange. “What...is this for?”

“New idea Jreen had, after Jreen’s head stopped exploding! Jreen thinks if Jreen can isolate small portion of tetrahedral Earth crystals and suspend them in Water-Positive solution at 3.2 to 1 ratio, after distilling out Air impurities to prevent internal cross-reactions, Jreen can create new extract to draw on natural elemental properties and integrate them into physical self!”

“Oh.” Tiana looked on blankly, clueless.

“Will Tiana help Jreen test?”

Memories of Cairon flashing back to mind, she looked a bit uneasy. “Will I need to drink anything?”

“No, no, of course not. Is silly. No drinking, Jreen swears. Jreen will just need Tiana’s help outside. Oh! And would be best if Tiana wore armor.”

“...excuse me?” She was even more set off at this, wondering just what Jreen had in mind. “Are you going to be attacking me?”

Shocked, Jreen stepped back, waving his hands rapidly. “No no, nothing like that! Is just part of experiment! Tiana will not be hurt at all, Jreen swears that as well.”

“Mm.” She looked on, tilting her head. “I suppose I must admit to being curious...” Pursing her lips in a moment’s thought, she finally sighed, starting for the door. “I’ll meet you outside in fifteen minutes.”

“Good! Jreen will be there!”

With a slight quirk of a smile, Tiana left the room, padding back to her own as vague questions of what Jreen might be planning flitted through her mind, quickly banished by an equally-vague amusement, and the fact that she’d know soon enough. Little reason for her to think on what might come when she would quickly know what has come; Chronepsis reveals the future in his own time, after all, she thought to herself.

Shortly armored and ready, she climbed the stairs and emerged to the street, where Jreen stood, lost in thought. Holding a vial up to the sky’s light, he scowled thoughtfully, peering at the sparkling liquid, completely unaware as Tiana approached. Perhaps barely able to reach his shoulder if she stretched as far she could, she decided instead to simply tap his side, bringing him to look to her so quickly, she was a bit surprised he didn't snap a bone or tendon.

“Ah! Perfect timing!” Gulping the vial down, he carefully slid it into a loop at his belt. “Tiana is ready, then? Should be fast!”

She nodded bruskly with furrowed brow, watching Jreen for any sign of transformation, though nothing seemed to show itself to her. “What must I do?”

“Stand still! Jreen needs a short moment, should be fast.”

Crossing her arms with a tilt of her head, she continued to inspect Jreen, but nodded again. Jreen approached close, as she watched warily, waiting for what was to happen. “How fa-” Quicker than she could react, Jreen lifted her from the ground, holding her without effort above his head. Sure enough in herself to do little more than gasp, with no yelp nor shout, she simply reached behind herself to grip his arm. Speaking firmly, in measured tones, she looked over her shoulder as best she could manage, braid dangling halfway to the ground. “What are you doing?”

“Is Jreen’s test! Jreen developed new extract to allow Jreen to bear more weight!”

Taking a slow breath, she grimaced, staring up to the sky. “And this is how you chose to test it?”

“Needed heavy weight!” Pausing silently, he quickly added, “Because armor. Jreen is not saying-”

“Can you set me down, Jreen?” In honesty, it was all Tiana could do not to laugh at the ridiculousness of her current situation, drawing the eyes of passersby here and there, but she didn’t wish to give Jreen that satisfaction.

“But...Jreen needs to know how long extract will last.”

“How long do you expect it to last?”

“Well...Jreen’s calculations estimated...” He muttered quietly, hardly audible, “two hours?”

She was silent for what seemed an eternity, slowly breathing in and out, keeping her mood calm and settled. “Jreen.”

“...perhaps Jreen can find a large rock.”

“Yes, that would likely be best.”

Carefully sat back down on her feet with hardly even a stumble, she looked up towards Jreen with arms crossed, largely unperturbed.

“...Jreen is sorry?”

Her mouth again quirking into a smile, she let out a long sigh, holding no grudge. “After your test is finished, shall we visit the market? A meal, perhaps?”

“...yes.” Tiana watched Jreen slink off in search of a boulder or anvil, before returning to her room, to again remove her armor, to meditate and pray until the afternoon came.

Chapter Text

The fourteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

The return from the temple wasn’t entirely silent; though nerves were frayed all about, eventually conversation picked up, as Trasal (to break the mood) suggested they gain some idea on their options, pointing out the meeting wasn't entirely without worth. Weighing the benefits, the risks, the distances, they muttered quietly along the way, preparing for the full-party discussion to come while doing their best to keep strangers from getting too much of an ear. Finally entering the inn, Trasal and Jazaka were the first to come upon Tiana and Jreen sitting side by side, chatting, to their mild surprise. Let alone the subject matter.

“-suppose there is some sense to it.”

“Yes; no disrespect! Would be more disrespectful to waste bodies. Brings use in death one way or another, continues to help tribe. Even enemies bring help.”

“I cannot say I’m quite comfortable with the thought, but...I suppose it isn’t quite the insult to Chronepsis as I thought.”

“Jreen i- ah! Friends have returned!”

Easing to the table, the two sat to either side of the pair, Cairon and Cathra filling the gap across from them. Jazaka inclined her head to Tiana and Jreen, her anger having largely faded in the walk back. Though she couldn’t help but throw a glance to the two teens as she said, “Yes, and it went...for the most part...well. We didn’t get...quite the help we’d have liked. No names, but locations, at least.”

With a sharp nod, Trasal leaned on his cane. “We’ve got one of three choices; no surprise there," he noted with a smirk. "Each with its own pros and cons. I know a bit of each, and Cairon has a bit to add himself too,” he said with a glance his way, looking a bit pleased.

“Ah...” He laughed quietly, rubbing at the back of his head, still feeling a bit chastened but pleased for the praise. “I jus’ picked up a book back in Redwood? ‘S a good tale, an’ it’s got info on all th’ planes too. ‘S called Entertainin' from Acheron to Ysgard: A Bard's Tale. ‘bout a bard what waked the Great Ring, seein’ all he could see, learnin’ from it. But ‘s not...it’s nothin’. Jus’ a book I’ve been readin’, y’know? Might not even all be real.

Cathra looked on towards Cairon, a bit quiet, with neither smile nor scowl; hard to read, especially for her. Jazaka, though, quirked her head. “Speak on it, and let us see?”

“Yes, quite! So, then. Gehenna first, we’ll say. The closest to us, the quickest journey, for one.”

Cairon nodded, leaning on crossed arms, shoulders hunched. “Doesn’t quite seem like a...a very kindly place, though. ‘S all...floating stone. Pieces o’ worlds what lost themselves to catastrophe. Kinda...afterlife for dead planets, suppose?”

“I’ve been once.” Trasal frowned at the memory. “Not the best time. We’ve been told it’s the launch point for attacks this way, but...”

“It’s a dangerous place, with a secret devil fortress.” Jazaka looked to the two dryly. “Somehow, I doubt the help.”

Snorting, Jreen laughed. “Jreen agrees, bad idea. What is next?”

“Not much better. The city of Dis, in Baat-”

“No.” Tiana spoke firmly, glowering, staring off out the inn’s streetside window.. The rest of the party looked amongst one another, even Trasal a bit surprised.

“No?”

Softening a fraction, Tiana looked to Trasal. “...if we...have to. But...”

Understanding, he nodded. “To the last, then. Much less worrying, and one you may perhaps know, my friend.” Smiling warmly to Tiana for a short moment, he continued on with the others. “Not quite in the shadow of Celestia, but near it. Tradegate, the Gate-Town to Bytopia.”

“Ah...” She shook her head. “I am afraid not. I know the city, but I’ve never been.”

“I have, if shortly. And if you all thought this city’s market was an amazement, it’s but a grain of sand to the gem that is Tradegate.”

“Oh? Jreen is suspicious why it was not offered first.”

“Well...two reasons. First, it may be out of our price range. Nothing in Tradegate comes free, and little comes cheap. We might be able to work towards that, of course.”

“‘S th’furthest one too. Days still before we can continue on. Weeks, even, maybe, if we're unlucky; ‘s near t’the other side of th’Outlands entirely.”

“Perhaps, then, we ought put it to a vote?” Tiana looked about the table with confidence. “Between the six of us, it seems unlikely one would not come out above the rest.”

Each of the party in turn agreed, as Trasal called their two remaining options for a vote: a simple rollcall for each. Surprisingly, it turned out unnecessary; each, even Cathra, elected for the most distant: Tradegate.

Cairon looked to Cathra with surprise at the final result, and she simply shrugged absently without word, expression still unreadable.

Trasal, once the vote was concluded, stood. “Excellent. I believe, then, that I know our path there. Something which could help both in the distance and the gold. While at the market yesterday, I do believe I heard tell the Planar Trade Consortium was seeking employment.”

The sky began to grow dim as the party gathered at the caravan loading at Plague-Mort’s Spireward gate, each wagon brightly emblazoned with the same illustration: a train of carriages winding its way out of one portal and along a weaving road through another. The logo of the Planar Trade Consortium, one of, if not the, largest interplanar trade companies in the multiverse. Established for centuries, it was a staple of commerce from plane to plane. And it was always in need of well-lanned cutters to man it; guards, healers, teamsters, occasionally guides. Thousands of adventurers first made their names aiding the PTC on one route or another, and this party was soon to be one of the latest.

Within minutes, it was to be off, to Tradegate: the Gate-Town to Bytopia, the plane of Civilization. As Baator is for tyranny, as Limbo is for utter chaos, so Bytopia is for the city, the kingdom, the nation; the agreement to sacrifice some degree of personal freedom for the benefit of the whole. Though taken to dark lengths in some portions of reality, both mortal and planar, Bytopia took this in its finest, most idealistic aspect: If you can work, you do, for the benefit of all. If you can’t, you live, with the aid of all. As a side effect, near all the finest goods of the planes could source themselves, either in place or in person, to these Twin Paradises. And Tradegate, as the gate into the realm, stood proudly as a result as the most significant point of trade in the Outer Planes, a crossroads of mercantilism rivaling even Sigil itself.

Cairon looked on at Jreen’s side as the wagons were loaded with one crate after another, standing with some mild pride as one of a number of guards, watching as Jazaka met with the caravan’s healers in her own role. Ahead, he knew Cathra was speaking with the scouts; he’d barely talked to her since the argument, but it still befuddled him some how eager she was to throw herself in, as much as she’d taken to Plague-Mort. His thoughts along those lines were quickly interrupted as he spotted Trasal and Tiana, both - like him - bearing the logo of the PTC on their tabards; Tiana begrudgingly, Trasal with a smile as always. Waving to them both, he ran over, chuckling.

“Looks like we’re ‘bout ready to go, eh? Y’said it was big, Trasal, but didn’t think how big.” He scanned along the full length, two-dozen wagons each soon to be fully-loaded and tied down. “Th’caravans back home, maybe three or four?”

“It’s a sight, to be sure. Now, we’ve spoken with the head here, to see what the itinerary’s to be. We’ll have a two-day stop in Tír na nÓg some days on, and after that it’s to be a direct path to Tradegate.”

Jreen snorted at that, lip curling just slightly. “Tír na nÓg? Mmph. Grek-Brkk from tribe used to say Gnollish saying. Never trust fiends or fae." He paused. "Or humans. Or non-gnolls. Or other gnolls. Never trust anyone.”

Falling silent for a moment, he looked towards the others. “Jreen supposes Grek-Brkk may have just been paranoid.”

“Now then, Jreen, let’s wait until it comes before we judge.” Trasal grinned a tad. “After all, in the worst case, we’ll simply iron out our differences, eh?”

Jreen stared silently for a long moment to him, blinking.

“...Jreen is going to go speak with healers. Perhaps they have room.”

Rolling her eyes, Tiana jabbed Trasal with a sharp elbow as he chuckled, shaking his head. “Some day, you lot will find appreciation for my humor.”

Grabbing at Jreen’s arm, Cairon pulls him back with a laugh. “Aw, don’t worry, Trasal. I liked it.  But hey c’mon, looks like we’re gonna be headin’ off! Don’t wan-” As light dimmed, Cairon suddenly looked to the sky, a mild gasp of delight as rather than darkness, the sky was stretched across with roiling silver ribbons; a rare sight on the Outlands, a time when the barriers between planes thin and the infinite expanse of the Astral shines through. “‘Ey, ‘s a good omen! Dad always said, no better day t’start somethin’ important than an Astral Day.”

The four watched for a moment, heartened, before stepping over with the other guards; a dozen and a half all told. Taking up assigned positions along the caravan, they pulled themselves up into seats worked into the sides, looping their arms through their harness straps as the wagons pick up speed, two to a side. Cairon looked to his side, greeting his partner with a nod; another crossbow-wielder, both near the center of the caravan for a clear line of sight along its left. “‘Ey! Cairon, pleased t’meet you. First time on th’job!”

“Oh? “He reached across a bit awkwardly to shake Cairon’s hand with a hint of amusement. “Palot. Good meeting you m’self. You here for the travel or the jink?”

“Bit o’ both, s’pose. Headin’ Bytopia-ways with m’friends, an’ th’money don’t hurt none. You?”

“Long haul, m’self. Been traveling these caravans for years.” Settling in, he peered out along the fields, Plague-Mort quickly receding to the rear.

“Oh, no foolin’? Never even heard o’them ‘fore today. S’pose I lived kinda out in th’boonies an’ all...” A tad embarrassed, he chuckled, double-checking the wrist-strap on his crossbow.

“No shame in that. So did I once upon a time. So what’s got you headin’ to Bytopia?”

“Ah...” Memories of the Temple rushing through his mind, Cairon decided to be a bit more cautious than usual. “...y’know, lookin’ for work an’ all that. S’posed to be tons of it out that way, aye?”

“Oh, for certain. Well, you need any help or advice, be sure and ask. I’ve seen near everything a cutter can see on these trips, seems some days.”

“Sure I’ll be doin’ that after not long!” Laughing, Cairon follows Palot’s lead, taking watch as the rush of excitement finally begins to dim, his eyes jumping every so often to the tapestry of silver weaving itself overhead.

Alone and conflicted. It’s been Cathra’s standard way of life for the last 18 years, she ought be used to it by now.

Just before the caravan began its movement, the half-dozen scouts — half employees, half hire-ons — moved ahead, splitting off each in a separate direction to get the lay of the land, to watch for any hazards that might get in its way. The Outlands being as it is, bandits weren’t the only thing to be wary for, when a route that was a gentle roll through a wide meadow one month could be a treacherous path along a slim cliffside the next. Careful scouting was key, and so then too were careful scouts.

Still, after so much time spent forced with others, it’s a bit odd to her to suddenly be on her own again, no one to argue with or shout at for being daft. Too much time for her to dwell, too much time left with her thoughts.

Sodding thoughts.

Scowling, she stepped up towards a thick, fallen branch laying over a rock, snapping it in two with a firm stomp. She felt a bit better, but not much. Questions had been spinning in her mind lately, and she’s still hopeless at answering any of them. Questions’d always been the worst of it.  Too many memories of asking Cassandra one thing or another, only to get a sneer. Or a Look. Or both. “Where’s everybody else’s tail?” “What’s a pit-spawn?” “Can we go to Cairon’s for midsummer fest?”

Now, though? Now thanks to that berk, she’d started having all new ones coming.

Why didn’t she want to stay?

Of course there was the obvious answer, she wasn’t about to let those sods go unpunished. Not after something like this. But still, Plague-Mort...

It wasn’t Sigil, but it was great at first! A real city, with real things, filled with people like her! So why did she still get the same looks? The same sneers? Everywhere, wherever she went, people friendly to her face and disgusted the moment she turned away! Why wasn’t it different there? And then Cairon had to be Cairon again, and it was all just ruined! Nothing good ever lasts, does it? It all just burns on her, doesn’t it?

Strangling down a scream, she stabbed a katar into the nearest tree, forcing it near half its length. Her heart raced, her lungs burning, as she stared at the dagger and the long crack now stretching in either direction through the bark. With a curse, she pulled it free with a sharp tug, checking along it for any damage before sticking it back into her sheath. Not even Cairon wanted her around now? Thinking she’d be staying...hoping, more likely. Fine, then. Fiends were crap, tieflings were crap, Plague-Mort was crap, Cairon was crap. But once she reached Sigil, they could all go sod off. Make a real life for herself, in a real city.

Emerging from the copse, she took a quick look back; still a good distance ahead, still plenty of space. Leaning against a tree, she took a moment for herself, staring up to the glimmering silver sky. Supposed to be good luck, wasn’t it? Heard that somewhere some time. Maybe...?

For a moment or two, she stood there, watching, as an authentic smile cracked through to her face. She couldn’t stay there forever, though. Sighing, she wiped at her eyes, cursing again under her breath as she moved ahead, ever onwards.

Chapter Text

The fourteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Shift changes are interesting on a PTC caravan. Not-quite-mortal draft mounts with no need for food, rest, nor even sleep give them good time across the planes, but it meant not much of a chance to stop for camp. Bunk wagons serve as the next best replacement, though it was a bit of trial getting into them on the move. As Jreen showed, scrambling with no small amount of annoyance into the entryway before helped in by a grinning Trasal. "Having a bit of trouble, my fuzzy friend?"

“Egh. Jreen does not like that.” He settled in, grunting as he leaned against the wall. "Where is Cairon?"

"Resting." He nodded back towards the bunks, where Cairon lay strewn across the bed, out hard. "Thought this might give us a chance to talk."

"Eh?" Jreen raised his brows, tilting his head at Trasal. "Talk about what?"

"Oh, any number of things. Tattoos and tribes. Demons and deities."

Jreen's ears perked, shoulders hunching defensively.

"No harm meant to you, friend." He smiled, taking a seat opposite Jreen, perched on the edge of another bunk. "Nothing but my own curiosity. A gnoll claiming those under Yee-" He cut himself short at the sharp glare Jreen leveled at him, smiling apologetically in return. "...under the three-pronged flail as an enemy of their clan? You must admit, the situation is odd."

"...not odd to Jreen. But...words are a danger to clan."

"You have my word." Leaning forward on his cane, all amusement drained from his face. "In the name of the three Furies, I will reveal nothing to any you would have me not."

Jreen paused, silent, watching the floor. Finally, without lifting his head, he spoke simply. "Jreen would tell Trasal a story."

Unsure but curious, Trasal said nothing, waiting for Jreen to continue.

His voice fell quiet, a hushed whisper of revenance, of words he could hardly bring himself to say. "A story of He who brought life to the gnolls. He who tore our bones from the stone, who ripped meat from the bodies of His foes. He who watched over us as others struck at us. Protected us as others spat upon us. Cursed at us as scavengers. As carrion-eaters. He who taught us the ways of the Hunt, of the bonds of clans. The spellwork of our shamen, the strength of our totems.

"Of Gorellik, Lord of our kind."

Jreen fell silent, overwhelmed with emotion. Trasal waited a time before speaking, his own voice similarly hushed when he finally broached the silence with words. "I...forgive me, Jreen, but...I'd thought...I mean, all I've read says-"

He was cut off, as Jreen began again. "Elders say that dark sages sought to...bring more use from corpses. More than just food; to make corpses...useful for the clans. Fair idea. Saves effort. Zombies, skeletons, no issue. But not enough for them. Too dumb. They wanted better.

"But...didn't want to study. To learn. Instead they reached out to dark powers. Found...Doresain. Demon lord. Prince of Ghouls. Taught gnolls the means of forming ghouls. Ghasts. Other corpse-eaters. Intelligent, but...required feed." He snorted. "Poor choice. Aid was untrustworthy, like any fiend. Made things harder on clans. But most clans didn't care. Didn't think.

"And then he took Doresain. Claimed him as vassal. And...from Doresain, he came to gnolls."

Trasal nodded, engrossed. Jreen paused, taking a slow breath to calm himself before shaking his head sharply, a low growl building.

"We were...stepping stone for him. Many clans on Material and Planes both had always been attacked on all sides. Others saw gnolls as disgusting. As evil. As worth nothing but body to kill. So...many lost faith in Gorellik. And demon promised...better path for them. Path to strength. To power. To triumph over the humans, orcs, elves, hobgoblins, everyone who thought gnolls were nothing. And all demon asked in return was...worship. Obedience. Faith.

"More and more migrated to demon's worship. And...he gave some power. At a price, to gnolls and to Him. Gnolls were bound to demon's service, in this life and next. And He...waned. He began to die. To...be forgotten. Today He..."

Jreen shudders, a quiet whimper. "He who birthed us now is nothing but mindless hunter wandering Pandemonium. Few clans still know his name. Even fewer still honor him. As far as Jreen knows, Bloodfeather may...may be the last."

His head snapped up sharply, suddenly, as he stared deep into Trasal's eyes, the wood of his spear starting to whine under his grip. "His name will be honored again. Demon will pay for what he has done. All fiends will. Bloodfeather totem is the fiend, and none who stand against gnolls or our kin will survive."

Trasal shook his head slowly, grimacing. "I had no clue, my friend. But much comes into focus now. Of both you and he."

Jreen said nothing, shoulders slumped as the energy flowed from him, head dropping once more.

"Thank you for trusting me enough to share this tale." He frowns, moving across the room to sit beside Jreen, leaning against the wall near the sealed doorway. "The duty of an inquisitor is to uncover those who commit injustices, and wreak justice upon them. And I've never heard such a grand injustice. To enslave an entire people, subjugate their souls, and diminish their god..." He grunted, not having the words to respond to such a crime against morality itself. "I know not how I could aid you in your goal, but as you've devoted yourself to ours, I would devote myself to yours. Ask anything of me in your quest I can provide, and you would have it."

Jreen looked to Trasal with glistening eyes, pulling him into a wordless hug, nuzzling hard against his head as he squeezed with all his strength.

"Mmph...Jreen. Breathing."

"Oh!" He let go, looking abashed. "Jreen apologies. Is Trasal all right?"

"Yes, yes..." Trasal smiled, ruffling Jreen's head. "Now you rest yourself. As should I. Another shift tomorrow, after all."

With a laugh, Jreen gave Trasal one last nuzzle before scrambling towards the bunk. "Yes. Good friend. Good rest, Trasal."

"And you too, friend."

Chapter Text

The seventeenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Day passed into night into day as the caravan pressed onwards; a quiet journey as it made its way further inwards, drawing nearer to the plane’s center. As morning broke on the fourth day of the journey, Tiana slowly came about from another rough night of bouncing and jostling. She’d had worse sleep in her journeys, but not often; somehow, she’d rather a hard ground or a bobbing ship to the unpredictable jolts of sleeping on a moving caravan.

Before naught else, she sat straight in her bunk, eyes closed as she offered her daily prayer to Chronepsis; to allow her avert that which could be changed, and to face with strength that which could not. From there, a quick scrub of her face, brushing out her hair before restoring its braid, and a brief morning meal of hard bread with raspberry preserves, smoked meat, and dwarven coffee, just as since the journey began. Finally, ready to meet the day, she donned her armor and blade, and slipped carefully out for the next eight hours of guard duty.

Emerging into the light of early morning with nary a blink of her eyes, she stared off, towards the center of the plane. This near, the grand Spire of the Outlands was finally in sight; she knew it to be a massive stone pillar miles wide and infinitely tall, the great city of Sigil held above it, yet from here it seemed nothing more than a slim blue ribbon spanning across her full vision. A grand seam stretching up from the horizon and across the sky, as though it might split open at any moment; a thought aided by how vibrant the rest of the sky seemed, as though she’d never seen a blue like it before. Glancing about, she found the rest of her surroundings evoking similar feelings: the grass seemed greener, the cries of animals more joyful, the wind carrying a sweet scent as it wafted by. Enough to make a person giddy. Or for Tiana, at least, enough to stir up a slight longing for home, for the brightness of Celestia after the first spring melt.

Shaking her head clear, her mouth quirked, realizing what was happening at near the same moment a booming voice echoed along the caravan, its leader calling out an announcement through weak enchantment.

“Morning, all, and welcome to Tír na nÓg, one and all! We’re near to our first stop on the trip; Loch Finn’s only two hours ahead, and we’ll be encamping there for the nearby settlements until day after next! Scouts tell us a clear path on the way, but keep your eyes open!”

Taking a deep breath, Tiana allowed herself a moment to bask in the surroundings; she knew little of the Tuatha Dé Danann, but she was familiar enough with the lands of Fae, and how rich they could be to the senses. Not entirely to her tastes — a bit too much for her, truth be told — but there’s no harm in a moment now and then. Indeed, ahead along the caravan’s path, she could now spy hills which simply weren’t there a moment prior, so massive that they might be confused for mountains themselves were it not for the verdant green blanketing their smooth slopes. The memory was enough to snap her from her reverie as she sighed to herself, reminded suddenly of how far from the Mount she was, while simultaneously a tad annoyed at the nostalgia this realm seemed to shake from her so easily. With force of will, she pulled her thoughts from the past and cast them ahead. Thinking to the future, to what was to come.

To that Loch Finn in particular; these days had left her well-longing for a good bath.

Cathra was the first to see the lake, clambering along the hill and down a ridge, taking a gaze across the cove nestled at its base. And beyond the cove, Loch Finn, so vast it may as well have been called a sea, its surface a silvery-blue rippling gently in the ever-present breeze of the Land. In her excitement, she hardly bothered to restrain herself as she darted down, pausing only long enough to offer the caravan a quick signal from her hand mirror, letting them know of safe travels ahead. To either side, she could spy the other scouts converging on the trail with her, as eager as she was to immerse themselves in this scene of utter beauty.

By the time the caravan itself reached the cove, circling to a stop for the first time since departing Plague-Mort, Cathra was already stretched across the grass, armor and boots strewn about her as she soaked in the warmth. Rarely one for indulgence, but she couldn’t not enjoy this; not after all the work she put in these last days!

Of course, something had to break this moment for her, as always. And right now, it was the three she least wanted to deal with.

“Wow, this place’s beautiful! Never thought I’d see a spot like it!”

Closing her eyes, she sighed under her breath, taking a moment; Cairon’s scent drifted about her with his words, mixed with Jazaka’s and Blondie’s. Thoughts of their last fight, of Jazaka’s harsh chiding, of the constant judgment, all echoed in her mind, bringing a lilac burn to her cheeks. And after all Jazaka did for her at the shop. She should've known she'd be betrayed. Turned on. Just like always.

She wasn’t going to let this ruin her time, though. She forced the anger aside, propping herself up and looking across to Cairon.

“Not bad, I s’pose. Better’n-” She cut herself off before even worse memories she’d rather not face right now, memories of their now-distant home, bubbled back to the surface. Instead, she distracted herself watching the haulers open up the wagons, head tilted. “...why’re these bashers settin’ up here, though? We’re in th’middle of soddin’ nowhere.”

“...yeah. ‘s a bit weird, isn’t it?” Cairon scratched the back of his head as he watched the labor, but soon shrugged with a laugh. “Wonder if they need help?”

Jazaka briskly shook her head with a mild snort. “We’ve been working for days, Cairon. Give yourself a time.” Taking her own advice, she crouched to the grass before stretching out herself a bit of distance from Cathra, basking luxuriously in the warmth.

“Fair, fair.”

“But do it outta my sun, berk,” Cathra grunted, dropping herself back to the ground with arms spread and letting her eyes fall closed.

Stepping quickly to the side, he again laughed; quieter this time, grinning down to Cathra. He stretched back hard before reaching to his own leather’s hooks, shucking his armor with a sigh of relief. “Oh, ‘s nice to not have t’ finagle that off in a bouncing carriage. Near strained my shoulder last-”

“Oh!” Tiana offered a somewhat uncharacteristic gasp of surprise, staring out towards the lake. “I believe I may have found an answer to your question, Cathra?”

“Eh?” Sitting up again, she looked across, her eyes soon going wide at the sight of blue-skinned humanoids clad in green, fibrous clothing — and not much of it — emerged from the water and strode onto the beach, bringing an entirely different burn to her face. “A- ah. Well, that’s...ah.”

Glancing to Cathra, Tiana half-smiled, detaching her breastplate and setting it carefully on the ground. “Tritons. I’ve never met one, but I’ve read on them. The Mount held some villages of their number.”

“Huh!” Looking towards the emerging customers for hardly a moment, Cairon turned back towards the lake with wide-eyed interest. “Wonder what else’s in there, then...didn’t even much think o’that! If there’s people down there, must be all sorts o’neat beasts too!”

“All sorts, yes.” Jazaka snorted again quietly, shaking her frill. “But I wouldn’t go alone. You never know what dangers you might run into in the water.”

“Oh, aye, that’s a good idea! D’you come from seaside or somethin’, Jazaka? Thought all lizardfolk came from th’marshes!”

“Ah...not from, but I have some...experience with the sea, yes.” Jazaka fell quiet, her clouded eyes peering towards the lake’s surface.

She didn’t seem much in the mood to elaborate, bringing a quick frown from Cairon, but it lasted only but a moment before he waved down Trasal with a broad smile, running off his way. “Hey, Trasal! How ‘bout we go for a swim, eh?”

From the ground, Cathra huffed, tearing her eyes from the tritons and turning them to the grass. Mind cycling with boundless annoyance — at Cairon, at Jazaka, at herself — her train of thought was broken only by a sudden hand in her field of vision. She looked up, brow furrowed at the sight of Tiana staring down at her.

“Come. We could each use some time to clean, and there’s bound to be a private area near here.”

“...’scuse me?” Unrestrained emotions rushed over Cathra’s face; she might not know Tiana that well yet, but well enough to know she wasn’t the type to either flirt or insult, leaving her at an utter loss what this was.

“Well?”

“...in th’ water?”

“Where else does one bathe?”

“...th’ two of us.”

“Jazaka doesn’t share our regimen, and I’d prefer not to bathe with the men.”

“Not- that’s not- “ Her ire raising, she scrambled to her feet. Without Tiana’s help. “Are you barmy?”

“No. But you’re getting there.” Still with that same half-smile, Tiana pulled her hand back, beginning to unbuckle her armor. “Some don’t think enough. You think too much.”

“...I-” Cathra wasn’t even sure what that meant, but it still bothered her enough to start her snarling, wrapping her arms around herself in frustration. “You don’t know me, y’-”

“Berk?”

“Y-...n-...shut up!”

Standing, she stepped back, her armor carefully arranged on the grass to avoid scratching itself. “Jazaka, will you be here for a time?”

“Mm...I may not stay awake, but...I’m a light sleeper. It will be safe.”

“Thank you.” Looking back to the increasingly-fuming Cathra, Tiana jerked her head towards the lake. “Join me or not. But know that I mean nothing but to help.”

Her calm was utterly infuriating to Cathra; nothing to grab onto, nothing to pull, nothing even to shout about because she hadn’t done anything. She doesn’t understand it, but somehow it’s even worse than if she had. “Fine! Fine. But nothing funny.”

Tiana furrowed her brow, smiling, but said nothing as she started away, Cathra right at her heels. “An’ don’t take my stuff, lizard!”

Snorting, Jazaka waved a tired arm, rolling over to her stomach as she stretched her full length, frill limp along her neck. “Don’t kill each other.”

In silence, the two walked along the lakeshore, stopping only once a good distance away from the masses. Nodding to herself, Tiana knelt, pulling a small censer from her pack and balancing it carefully on a flat stone.

Cathra snorted dismissively, but still watched with a bit of incense. “...y’ gotta burn somethin’ to bathe?”

“I have to burn something to clear my mind.” Unwrapping a small satchel, she filled the censer, careful not to spill even a flake.

“Oh. I tried that once. Just got yelled at.”

To even her own surprise, Tiana let out the smallest of laughs as she lit the censer with a pair of sparkstones. Once sure it was smoldering properly, she slipped them back into her pack, setting it carefully nearby before pulling her braid loose.

To her own mild annoyance, the scent was a bit relaxing. Nostalgic, even. “...smells nice. Kinda like somethin’ bakin’.”

“Lemongrass and orange.” Running her hands through her hair, she shook it loose, splayed across her back and shoulders. To Cathra, even that much seemed to make her less standoffish, though she still refused to let her irritation go entirely. “A benediction to Chronepsis to clear my mind and allow me to see what I must.”

“...what y’must? What’s that?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t need to ask Chronepsis.”

“Guess that makes- gah!” Squeezing her eyes shut, Cathra turned sharply away as Tiana began undressing without pretense.

Without bothering to pause, she said, “We are bathing, are we not?”

“Y’might’ve warned me!”

“Warned you of what? That bathing required disrobing?” Stepping into the crystal water, she lowered herself gently to rest on the sand and stone, the chill sharpening her senses as she breathed deep of her incense.

Staring warily at the lake water, gazing back to the caravan, Cathra hesitated, tail twitching against the ground.

“Are you following?” Opening one grey eye, Tiana looked across to Cathra, head half-immersed and hair drifting about her. “It will help.”

“Don’t need-”

“Cathra.” Locking both eyes with her now, she said nothing at first, letting the silence settle in. Finally, she repeated, “It will help.”

Looking again to the lake, Cathra hesitated again; this time, in moments, her clothing was scattered about in a mess, as she walked into the water with a sharp curse. “‘s cold!”

“It’s a lake in the last days of summer. It will be cold. Ease into it, and breathe deep.”

Grumbling, she awkwardly lowered herself down, a sharp hiss with each new move. Eventually, though, she managed to settle herself, sending up small rippled every now and then with each fidget.

“Now, close your eyes. Think of nothing. And breathe.”

Following her lead, Cathra did her best to do each in turn. At first, it was no use, her thoughts as rampant and loud as ever. But as time passed, as minutes ticked by, indeed, they seemed to...quiet. Fade. No anger towards everything about her. No frustration towards those she knows and travels with. No whispers from Cassandra echoing beneath everything. Nothing but the occasional bubble of word or image, quickly drifting back into the void.

She began to cry.

No sobbing, no weeping, simply tears. Flowing from her eyes in a slow, steady stream. She didn’t even notice at first, thinking it just more of the water lapping against her face now and then. But it was there.

She didn’t know what it meant, but before even her quieted mind could think much on it, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she saw Tiana crouched on the shore, dressed once more, hair wrapped.

She spoke quietly, empathy in her voice. “Would you like more time? It’s been near an hour and a half.”

“Wh-really?” She wiped at her eyes — somewhat fruitlessly in the water, but reflex is reflex — and noticed that the sky did seem to be slightly dimmer, if only just.

Shifting about, Tiana rested her chin on one knee, her other leg extended, foot dangling in the water. “I’ll stay here if you need.”

“...no.  No, this was...no.” Sitting up with arms wrapped around herself, face burning, she quickly shook her head. Small droplets flew about, but Tiana wiped her face clear without comment.

“All right.” Tiana handed her a sheet of linen, standing and stepping back from Cathra. “Dry and dress, and we’ll walk together.”

“...y’won’t say...”

The corner of her lip crooked. “No.”

“Mmph. Can y’...turn?”

With a nod, Tiana turned her head. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

A few minutes pass before she simply said, “‘m good.” Her talons scraped lightly against the stone at the shore as she shifted here and there, and she shook lightly from chill, but she says nothing else.

Without further word, Tiana nodded again and started off, pack over her shoulder and boots under her arm. Waiting just a moment for Cathra, she resumed the walk back to camp, the two returning in silence but for the quiet whistle of the breeze.

“Cor, y’ever seen somethin’ like this, Trasal?” Nearer to camp, Cairon paddled in place in his smallclothes, peering with glee at the small octopus clinging curiously around his arm, his grin somehow becoming even broader as the beast shifted color from a deep magenta to a pale, sandy yellow.

“Oh, here and there, friend.” Swimming near Cairon, Trasal showed legitimate interest of his own, intrigued by Cairon’s new friend. “Though the ones I’m familiar with tend to be a hit more humanoid...but anyway, yes, a marvelous creature, this octopus.”

“I hope ‘s not scared. Hard to tell in some animals sometimes; seems cheerful enough?” He holds his other hand out to his new friend, watching as the octopus ‘jumped’ to his other hand in the water, tentacle loosely wrapping about it with a gentle squeeze.

“Ah, if it was scared, you’d know.” With a canted grin, Trasal pushed himself a bit distant, his tone playfully alilt.  “You’d suddenly find yourself in a much darker place, struggling to wash your sins away. Oh, a horrible fate, that.”

“...eh?”

He chuckles, amused with himself. “A frightened octopus tends to leave a bit of a mess. An inky one. Not easy to miss, that.”

“...you’re pullin’ my leg. Really?” Scoffing, Cairon gently strokes his curious new friend, utterly in love.”That’s some trick. Doesn’t hurt ‘em, does it?”

“Oh, not that I’ve heard. No, it’s more a distraction than anything.”

“Good! Don’t want t’worry ‘bout spookin’ him an’ gettin’ him hurt all at once.” Looking off, he caught sight of the girls, waving to them both as he swam nearer to shore. “‘Ey! Cathra, Tiana! Look what I found!”

“...huh?” Snapping to attention, Cathra scowled to Cairon; nothing of him this time, merely raw and confused, though Cairon seemed oblivious just the same. Tiana paused alongside her, looking to Trasal for insight, but he had little to offer but a shrug and a smile.

“Found a new friend! An’ he’s a great one too! Nearly as great as Samson.” Raising his arm from the water, he held the creature out towards Cathra, watchful for any signs of distress in it with barely a glance towards her. “He was goin’ for a clam just out the water, and you should’ve seen him jus’ scramblin’ back in after he got it, jus’ happy as a...well, bad choice o’ words. Still!”

“...what is it?” Cathra screwed her mouth up into a grimace, seemingly confused by the very sight of it, eyes jumping between it and him.

“‘S called an octopus, Trasal said!”

“...is it edible?”

Cairon rolled his eyes, sighing. “Why’s it every time I find a creature, you wanna eat it!”

“Well, what else are they good for?” Stirring herself into a huff, her emotions even more to the surface than usual, Cathra wrapped her arms around herself, glaring at the beast with a mild snarl. “Y’always findin’ one soddin’ thing or another an’ shovin’ them at me, an’ they’re always some dumb...tentacle thing, or some dumb bug, or...or some dumb lizard.” Tiana watched on, frowning but silent, while Trasal sighed, withdrawing himself from the shore and the brewing fight.

Though he was tempted to snap back, Cairon bit his tongue, glancing in reflection towards Jazaka sunning on the shore, her sharp words to them both. Instead, he simply fell quiet for a moment, before nodding his head back towards the deeper part of the lake. “Trasal an’ I were gonna try to see about that village under water. If you wanna come too, y’can.”

Somehow, Cathra seemed almost hurt by the lack of response, eyes narrowing as her voice fell to a near-whisper. “...I jus’ bet you are. All those seaweed-wrapped...floozies, huh?”

He shrugged, paddling a bit further from the shore. “If you don’t wanna come, that’s fine. Thought I’d ask. I’ll see y’in a bit, then.”

“Like I’d want t’do that.” She dropped onto a nearby stone as Tiana continued to watch, crouching, her talons scrapping angrily against the rock. “Go on an’ drown, see what all this explorin’ gets you.”

“...fine. I’ll see y’later, Cathra.” Turning a bit awkwardly, Cairon followed Trasal away, eventually diving beneath the surface as she stared on, confused.

Tiana took a quiet step towards Cathra, but she hunched tighter at the sound of her footstep, saying nothing. So she paused, nodded, and started further away, giving only the occasional worried glance now and then as she left for camp.

Chapter Text

The seventeenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Awakening from her welcome nap, Jazaka was reluctant to do more than continue to lay still, to stop her basking and leave the warmth behind. These were always the worst moments after a rest. She knew, though, that she'd curse at herself were she to simply spend the rest of the daylight doing nothing at all. With a resigned sigh, she forced herself up, pushing herself off the ground with her hanbo-slash-walking-stick. She stretched, her nap having well-relaxed her after the long, difficult ride. Better than her last, perhaps but that was slim word indeed; memories of her recent travel into Broadshire still echoed in her bones. Still, a good sunning always did much for her mood; a shame for mammalian mores getting in the way of a proper sunning, but she’s not eager to face the comments she’d sure to incur for stretching out unclad. Difficult enough to not be seen as savage without all that.

Closing her eyes, as unnecessary as it may have been, she listened about and scented the air; mostly strangers, she could tell. Little sign of most of her companions at first, but...there, a familiar scent of musk and smoke, wafting from what she believed to be the edge of the encampment. She made her way along, nodding to the occasional figure here and there (usually with little clue who they actually were, of course, but why be rude?), carefully maneuvering her way about the uneven sand and stone.

“Jreen. Keeping yourself out of trouble, I hope?” She snorted quietly, head slightly bowed as she approached the figure crouched over his work.

He jumped, if just a bit, whirling to her with his slightly-wheezing laugh. Such a skittish one, seeming more hare than hyena at times. “Jazaka! Oh, yes, Jreen is not causing trouble. Jreen is simply doing science.”

“I’m only teasing, Jreen. Seems everyone else is to their own devices, and I was feeling a bit lonely.” Peering past him as best she was able, she looked over his small, portable lab; steam and fumes bubbling and hissing about, a bare hint of of caustic odors wafting from the brew. “Just what are you doing? I’m not interrupting, am I? I could always return to the healer’s wagon if so." She rolled her eyes, snorting again. "Perhaps Mearl would have more stories to tell of his days as a war medic.”

Jreen’s ears perked up. “War medic stories?”

“Oh, yes.” Her tone flat, she jerked her head with a quick puff of breath. “He has a list of his ten most interesting wounds, you know. Most gruesome, I'd say.”

“Ooh. Jreen should speak with Mearl later; always interested to learn more anatomy!” He tilted his head in consideration as Jazaka sharply barked.

“Just be sure to ask when I'm far away; it was enough the first time, I'd rather not hear it all again. But I’d asked about you?”

“Ah yes! No, Jazaka is not interrupting. Jreen is brewing bombs!” He stood up sharply, brimming with pride. "Has done many times, can do fine while talking with Jazaka."

“...bombs?” She blinked; Jreen seemed to have a special talent for bringing her up short.

“Yes! Jreen has not had much chance yet to use them in combat, but important to stay in practice. Will be needed eventually, Jreen is sure.”

“...isn’t that...dangerous here?”

“No, no, no. Perfectly safe! Probably.”

She paused for just a moment. “‘Probably’.”

“Yes, well, Jreen’s bombs seem...er...” He stared at his workshop, before sharply looking back to Jazaka. “Oh! This is perfect chance! Jazaka can help Jreen with experiment!”

Jazaka spoke warily, feeling herself maneuvering through a conversational minefield much less metaphorical than she was used to. “You want my help with...a bomb experiment.” 

“Yes! Jreen’s bombs seem to only work when Jreen uses them. Jreen is not sure why yet, but Jreen has been working on that. Jazaka could try for Jreen? Jreen would ask Cairon, but Cairon refuses to help with bombs since Jreen tried to make Cairon eat one.”

“...you...wait, he...” Her frill fluttered as she turned this entire comment over in her mind. For the sake of her own sanity, she chose for now to keep her focus on the key part, squeezing her brow tight as she rubbed at her eyes. She took a slow breath, opening her eyes and as steadied as she could manage. “What, exactly, is it you want me to do?”

Jreen jammed a small ball of clay into her hand. “Prime bomb, and throw at me! If it doesn’t work, Jreen has new knowledge.”

“...and what if it does work?”

“Then Jreen has different knowledge!”

Jazaka sputtered, frill standing shock straight. “Jreen, I- you’re not- no! I-I might hurt you!”

“Jreen heals well, remember?”

“That’s not the point!” She sighed, rolling the clay around in her hand. “...what if I simply throw it at the sand instead?”

“...Jreen supposes.” He slumped, sighing pitifully. “Jreen guesses strength of bomb can be found that way as well if bomb explodes. Would rather feel for himself, less room for error, but fiiiine.”

Jazaka appraised Jreen; something she often found herself doing after a prolonged talk with him. It was impossible to tell just how serious this gnoll was even at the best of times, let alone when caught up in his alchemical work; his sense of humor was so odd, but in a way she found herself, to her surprise, appreciating? Shaking her head, she shrugged, granting him a slim smile. “Fine, fine. How do I...what do I do?”

Jreen held out a vial of orange fluid to Jazaka; setting her walking stick down, she took it, holding it close enough to make it out well as she could manage. “This is primer. Pour it into hole in bomb, seal hole, then throw quickly.”

“How quickly?”

“Jreen would recommend within ten seconds. As quickly as you can.”

Nodding, she looked aside, squinting and scenting the air. “This portion of the beach is empty, yes?”

“Yes, entirely!”

“All right...” Her heart began to race as she popped the seal on the vial with one claw. Cautiously, she poured it in and pinched it closed, tossing it in an instant before crouching and ducking, covering her head with clenched eyes and waiting.

And waiting.

After a fifteen-count in her head, she opened an eye, peeking out.

“...something should have happened by now, yes?”

“Hmph. Yes. Jreen must find the root of this.” Walking over to the divot where the small clay ball landed, he crouched to grab it from the sand.

“Jreen, are you sur-” Her words were cut short as Jreen took up the clay ball, and in an instant, the sudden hiss of roiling liquid and building pressure could be heard bubbling within it. With an almost humorous gasp, he threw it into the air as quickly as he could manage. It burst in the air with a bright flash and a sharp crack, the heat apparent even from where Jazaka stood. Jreen, though, didn't seem to have been quite fast enough; he yelped, his fur caught by licks of flame and his paw by flash-hardened clay shrapnel.

Pulling his hand back, he muttered Gnoll curses under his breath, appraising the damage with a surprisingly clinical examination; burnt flesh, frayed muscle, but he hardly did more than wince as he carefully prodded the extent of it all and cautiously removed shards one by one.

Jazaka charged towards him with a slight stumble, grabbing his arm. “Jreen, you...you berk! You could’ve blown your arm off!”

“Jreen...learned something, at least.”

Shaking her head, she channeled forth her divine energy to heal his wounds, his flesh stitching itself back together as she grumbled in her own native tongue. “<Foolish child, taking stupid risks.>”

Jreen wilted a bit, looking back to Jazaka, seemingly more struck by her words than the pain of his wounds. “<Not foolish. Just risks.>”

Jazaka looked up as his skin regrew itself over bare tissue, brow raised. “<You speak Draconic? You never mentioned.>”

“<Never came up.>” He shrugged, flexing his paw and pressing again at the once-damaged muscle, appraising the extent of the restoration. Though he couldn't help but wince a bit — healing magics might be good for tissue, after all, but the pain oft remained — he seemed pleased at the results.

“<That’s...oddly comforting to know. I haven’t had someone to speak it with in...months.>” Jazaka snorted, able to relax now that the worst was over. She grinned to Jreen, awash with relief. “<I’ll have to be careful with my more private thoughts, though.>”

“<Jreen had to learn for studies! Most academic writing in Draconic. But yes, Jreen understands.>” He snickered sharply. “<Jreen used Abyssal for that with tribe. Teacher only other who spoke it. Uses Gnollish for that now.>”

She stared with a sharp bark of surprise, head shaking. “<...Just how many languages does that head of yours hold?>”

“<Just the four! Jreen meant to learn Infernal, but can only write; good for notes, but too difficult to speak.>”

“<I’ll take your word on that, then. Simply learning Common was challenge enough; if I tried to learn a third, I fear something would fall out of my head. Possibly my sanity.>”

“<Oh, Jreen lost that ages ago. Jreen doesn’t miss it.>” He paused for a long moment, before clarifying, “<That was a joke.>”

With a quirk of her brow, Jazaka snorted, nudging his shoulder. “<I may not be as clever as you, Jreen, but I do understand facetiousness.>”

Snickering, Jreen gave her a quick nuzzle in return, before looking back to his lab. “<Ah, could Jazaka do one more favor? In cabinet, a pale green vial. Should be two. Could Jazaka grab for Jreen? Paw still tender.>”

She nodded, making her way towards the cabinet, leaning close in. “<If you don’t mind the time. I’ll be a bit slow finding it.>” After some time, she finally pulls the proper vial free, carrying it back towards him. “<What is it?>”

Taking it with his uninjured paw, he quickly swallows it down with little more than a mild flinch at the sharp bitterness of the liquid. “<Extract. Like potion, but not magic. This one called a ‘polypurpose panacea’. Helps for pain.>”

“<Oh, Jreen, you didn’t have to waste one for this. I could’ve made you a poultice.>”

“<No no, no waste! Cheap, easy to make.>” Already, he seemed able to flex his paw without pain. “<Much cheaper than potions, and only lasts a day. Jreen would have to throw out tomorrow anyway. Also seems to only work for Jreen though. Still working on that too.>” With a broad hyena grin, he laughed. “<Other extract was for healing. Jreen prepared for this experiment! Jreen is scientist, but Jreen is not foolish.>”

“<You are such a mystery, Jreen.>” Snorting in amusement, Jazaka recovered her hanbo from the ground. “<I hope you don’t actually blow yourself up one day.>”

“<Jreen doesn’t plan to, but Jreen makes no promises.>”

With a mild tsk, Jazaka leaned on her staff, mouth quirked. “<Fine, I suppose I can’t stop you. Walk me back to the healer’s wagon, then? I’ll introduce you to Mearl; likely a safer evening for you than further experiments.>”

“<Agreed!>” And with an eager grin, Jreen took up Jazaka’s arm, all but tugging her towards the wagon as he chattered on.

Chapter Text

The seventeenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Smirking to herself, perched on a small outcropping, Cathra watched the lake's surface as Cairon popped back up with Trasal, swimming towards the shore where their clothes were left behind. Nearby, Tiana looked up from polishing her armor, too caught up in her own matters to have even noticed what she was up to. She offered Cathra a quick, weary glance for the childish prank, which Cathra returned with utter glee.

"'ey, berk!" Snorting, she nodded to the shore, where the lake lapped at Cairon's clothes. "Maybe this'll teach you t'run off like that!"

"Wh-" Pulling himself out of the deep, Cairon gaped for a moment before his mouth twisted into a frown; behind him, Trasal rolled his eyes. Grumbling, he once more bit back his retort as he waded towards them. "Funny."

"Yeah, y'bet it is." Hopping down, she crossed her arms, quite pleased with herself as she crossed the distance to where Cairon lightly shook his pants out.

He stepped into them, and almost immediately stumbled back, shouting at the sensation of something squirming within them. Pulling his leg back and barely keeping his balance, he could hardly even get a glimpse at what it was before it exploded into ink, covering half his body. Sputtering, he wiped his face clear as Cathra burst into a sharp cackle. "Oh gods, it's all over you! That's what you get for running off t'those fish floozies!"

Even Trasal couldn't help but laugh to himself, but this was a step too far for Cairon, whose last emotional dam finally burst. After dropping the small octopus carefully into the water, he turned to Cathra, shoving her firmly and leaving ink streaked across her tunic. "What's wrong with you? Gods, Cathra, why would I even want to be around you like this?"

"...What? What'd you just say?" Cathra snarled, catching herself from a stumble. She shoved back hard, staring Cairon down, as Trasal and Tiana moved to their side, ready to intervene if things escalated much further. "T'hell with you, then!"

Turning on her heel, she began to stomp off, their erstwhile chaperones exchanging a look of relief. But Cairon couldn't help but chase after her, roiling emotions from the past week and a half finally pouring out free.

"You heard me, y'...y'berk!" He glowered, giving her another firm shove. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but no one'd want t'even look at you like this, let 'lone be around you! Y'can't just get along with people, y'gotta always cause trouble! Why can't y'just be friendly, be like everyone else?"

With a sharp growl, Cathra took a swipe at Cairon that he was only able to duck under by the slimmest of margins. She froze, staring in shock as she began to sputter words, but before anything could be said Tiana moved up behind her, grabbing her arms in a pin. Snarling and panting, she struggled against Tiana's grip, twisting and pulling as she tried to force herself free. "Leggo! Let me go!"

Balling his hands tight, Cairon slowly brought his own breathing under control, though he didn't break his glare. Watching Cathra struggle, he closed his eyes for a moment, sighing as anger faded to resignation. "...let her take a swipe, Tiana. I don't even care."

Tears streaked across her face as she stopped moving, her own emotions befuddling her. "N-...I don't...I didn't...you jus'..."

"Just what? What did I even do? Y'think I was really jus'...goin' off to stare at some women? Y'really think that 'bout me?"

"You..." Cathra stared at the sand, cold and quiet as all energy drained from her body. "Jus'...jus' don't follow me. Don't even...don't even talk t'me again. I know y'don't want to anyway." Finally pulling free from Tiana, she started off once more, if more quietly this time. She wiped at her face, frustrated with herself, but without enough energy to think much beyond that.

"I..." He looked with confusion to Tiana and Trasal as Cathra retreated alone. Tiana shrugged in equal confusion, watching her depart, while Trasal shook his head with pity.

"I wouldn't leave her alone right now, friend."

"...even after all that? She jus' said-"

"Do you believe her?"

Cairon turned to watch Cathra as she ducked behind a hill. Rubbing his forehead, he slowly shook his head. He looked to them both for a moment before starting off after her, awkwardly wiping his hands on his wet shirt along the way, but doing little to get them clean.

Some minutes later, Cathra crouched on a stone, one arm wrapped around her legs as she stared at her free hand. She shook as she clenched it tight, talons digging into her skin, tiny scars dotting the ball of her hand around where the points pressed. She opened it slowly, holding back a sob, only to repeat the cycle again and again.

"...Cathra?"

She cringed, fist tightening, her talon drawing a bit of blue blood. She barely spoke above a whisper, unmoving as a gargoyle. "I said don't follow me."

"...I know. But I don't get why. I'm not magic, Cathra. How'm I supposed to know what you hate me for if you don't tell me?" He gave a hint of a smile, adding, "Is it 'cause I called you a berk?"

Cathra cracked a little, but not where Cairon could see. Wiping her hand on the stone, she said simply, "Piss off."

"...Cathra..."

"What?"

"I...I don't know." He fidgeted with his arm, completely at a loss what to do, what to say.

"...why don't you just go back to the people what don't cause trouble."

"I don't...I jus'...what do I say t'make you not hate me?"

"...it's not...you...you're totally missin' th'point." She finally looked to him over her shoulder, eyes blue and puffy. "Jus'...jus' shut up."

"Th' point is that you...you were crying back there, an' that's...I don't...I don't think you've ever cried in front of me before." He stepped a little closer, still fidgeting. "An' besides, do I sound like I wanna go back?"

She turned back, and her voice cracked quietly, almost not enough to notice. "Least y'don't hate them."

"...what?" Coming around, he sat beside her perch, but she could still hardly bring herself to look at him. "Cathra, what? Where did...I-"

"An' you don't even know! I thought you were different. But you jus' see the same thing. Y' see me like ev'ryone else does. I'm jus' some dumb fiend-blooded sod who should jus' go rot in a hole."

Cairon shook his head, smiling a bit at the sheer ridiculousness of what she was saying. "You're my best friend who's bein' a soddin' idiot is what you are." He reached for her hand, but she pulled away nervously. "Someone been sayin' stuff to you?"

"...you! You've been sayin' stuff!" She stared at him, a familiar anger coming back into her voice. "Those pityin' looks you've been givin' me, an'...an' all the patronizing." She raised her voice into a mocking tone. "'Want some eyes, Cathra? Oh, you like it here, Cathra? This is your kind of place, Cathra!' Like...like I'm some bloody nuisance you jus'...you jus' wanna dump in Plague-Mort."

Cairon cringed, looking to the grass as he reflected on his actions, more truth in Cathra's words than he wished. "I just thought y'looked happy there. Happier'n with me. With us. I didn't...want you t'stay there, y'berk."

She huffed, cheeks puffing. "Stop callin' me that. Y'don't even know what it means."

"I d- well, I'm pretty sure I do. You call me it all th'time, after all."

"Hmph." She shifted, stretching her legs out and leaning her elbows on her thighs. "...doesn't matter. 's stupid."

"What's stupid? 'sides from me, o' course." He smiled weakly, but she hardly reacted.

"...That I'd think...with those fish girls around, or...anyone...that I'd think anyone'd care t'look at me."

Caught off guard, Cairon takes a moment to even speak. "...what?"

"Y'heard me." Curling over, she crossed her arms over her lap, running her talons over her arm.

Gears turn in his head as he looks to Cathra. "Y'wanted...me t' ogle at you?"

"N- I don't know. But y'don't even want t'look at me. Y'said so."

"Oh, c'mon, Cathra. We say things all the time. I've said I wanted you t'jump off a cliff 'fore. I mean, y'once told Mum you'd rather 'fuck a Dustie in a dark alley' than learn t'cook. Did y'really mean that?"

"That's not even the same thing."

"Why isn't it?"

"Because..." She finally turned to face him, her face a collage of emotions. "Because y'knew we were kiddin' then, and y'weren't this time! I know it! No one in th'caravan likes me, that's why they sent me off t'scout! An' when we stopped, they're all starin' at me...at my tail, my horns, my...my whole...me. I know it, I notice it!"

"...tell me who. Tell me who an' I'll get 'em to stop." He looked her in the eyes, expression flat and utterly serious. "If anyone's makin' you unhappy, I want t'know about it."

"It's...y'don't get it, Cairon." She seemed near-empty now, hardly able to even sit upright. "You're a human. You're not...weird. Not 'evil'. Y'never had kids lookin' at you soon as you went past a stall, mutterin' about you, throwin' rocks at you. Y'never had folks tellin' their kids to come in when y'wanted to play." Her hand quivered as she gripped at the rock, gazing down towards him. "Y'...y'know Alna? The girl who moved? I...I got mad, an' I cut her face up with my claws, Cair'. Like...like I almost..." She trailed off, looking back to her talons. "Did you...did you know that? Did your parents tell you that? Didn't even...didn't even mean to, jus'...jus' got angry, an'..."

"...oh." Cairon frowned. "I...no, I didn't. Mum an' Dad jus' said they moved t'Sigil."

"Mmph. Yeah. So don't...so don't think y'know anythin' about me."

With hardly a moment's thought, he stood. "C'mere, Cathra."

"...no."

"Fine. Then I'm comin' up. Hope there's room for two on that rock o' yours."

"...wh- hey!" Wide-eyed, she shook her head sharply. "I said piss off!"

"Nope." He pulled himself up, nudging Cathra aside to make room; though she tried to push him off, she didn't have the energy to manage much, and he settled in beside her, one foot propped on the stone. "Nice try. Now." He opened his arms, waiting.

"Ugh. Don't make me shiv you," said Cathra.

"'m not kiddin'. You need a hug."

"Mmf." She squirmed, torn. "No."

"Why not?"

"Why...would y'want to?"

"'cause you're my best friend. And...well...you..." His cheeks darkened, his mouth quirking nervously. "...you are pretty, y'know. I...sometimes I do...y'know...look at you."

Freezing rigid at that, she stared at him in shock. It surprised her how much hearing that sunk to her core. How much...on one hand, how awkward the thought of Cairon thinking of her like that was, but on the other, how much she didn't realize she'd hoped he did. How often she'd snuck glances of her own.

She wrapped her arms around him without a word, taking in ragged breaths. Cairon returned the hug, head resting on her shoulders, as she held him tight as she could manage.

"'m not...hurtin' you?"

He smiled, quiet. "'Course not. I can take it. Always have."

"...berk." She smiled a bit, and could feel him smile back.

"You're a berk too, y'know. We can both be berks."

Cathra squeezed a little tighter, not wanting to ever let go. "Shut up, y'idiot." 

"...can I say somethin' stupid now? 's my turn."

With a sharp snort, she shrugged. "'m not stoppin' you."

He took a moment to take a quiet breath, suddenly anxious. "When...when I was twelve, before I was strong enough t'work at the forge...around when I started lookin' at girls...I remember thinkin' you were th'prettiest one of 'em all." Cathra blushed a deep purple out of Cairon's sight as he continued, pushing on before she could interrupt him. "I thought 'bout askin' you now an' then, but y'never...seemed int'rested in romance junk. An' I...look. Me likin' you, it's not any of this stupid shit people like to say, about lookin' past you to th'person inside an' all that bollocks." He pulled back, looking her in her eyes. "I like you. Not 'who you are inside'. You...inside an' out."

She continued to stare, purple as the night sky, quietly sputtering.

"So...you goin' t'say anythin', or have I won with my stupid thing?"

"I...what?"

He grinned awkwardly, laughing. "Is that...a yes? Sh-...should I jus' leave now?"

"What? You're...'win'? What are you..." She stands from the rock, shaking her head, nearly shouting. "What d'you mean 'win'?"

"Did I say the most stupid thing in th'history of our lives together, admittin' all that? I mean...I guess what I'm askin-"

Twisting her face up, she swung her fist into Cairon's arm as he laughed it off, rubbing at the soon-to-form bruise.

"I didn't mean it like that!" He kept laughing as she continued swinging, half-heartedly batting at her to fend her off. "So I did ruin our friendship? 'Cause we-"

Before he could say more, Cathra grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a deep kiss. After hardly a second, she let go and stared back, as shocked herself as Cairon was. They sat quietly, watching one another; another moment passed, and she leaned in again, more unsure, sighing through her nose as her tail wrapped about his leg. Just as unsure, Cairon returned the kiss with arms around her back, fingers stroking lightly along her neck.

When they finally broke once more, Cairon half-smiled, laughing quietly.

Cathra half-smiled back herself, tail swaying behind her. "I...um...I'm goin' t'go...head in. Gettin' a bit cold." Slipping off the rock, she started off slowly back towards the caravan. giving Cairon plenty of time.

"...are you comin' back after?"

Looking back over her shoulder, Cathra paused, grinning shyly.

"...oh!" Realization struck Cairon; hopping off himself, he hurried ahead, taking her hand.

About to say something sudden, she instead just squeezed. Squeezing back, Cairon ran his thumb across the back of her hand. Her stomach jumped, nerves and excitement alike hitting her, and the two walked back to camp, hand in hand.

Chapter Text

The eighteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Morning came over the caravan, and with it, visitors from all about the area; over the previous evening, runners reached the nearby villages, letting all near know that once more the Planar Trade Consortium had stopped beside the loch to offer wares to all and sundry. And so upon daylight, dozens came to stock up on goods they'd never otherwise have access to. Arborean grain, Bytopian tools, metal mined from the heights of Celestia or the depths of Baator. Trinkets and tonics, knick-knacks and novelties, brews and baubles. And of course, not mere physical goods, but the products of the planes' cultures as well, the writings and art of countless cities of distant realms spread along the trade lines of the PTC and others. Truly, it was trade that held the planes together.

Or so the countless flyers about the camp claimed, at least. Each signed in a flourish by Estavan, owner and proprietor of the Consortium, his grinning ogre mage visage stamped upon each beside the text. Most posted on the wagons, but a good number trampled in the dirt as workers carted goods from wagon to stall, preparing for the soon-to-arrive crowds.

Perhaps the PTC wasn't quite the universal good he claimed. But this morning, at least, his words seemed to hold at least a grain of truth, as the peoples of this portion of Tír na nÓg -- petitioner and planar alike -- gathered to take their pick for a fair price, moving along the stands and perusing the varied inventory with wide, excited eyes.

Alongside them, Tiana stood at a stand offering any number of books, both printed and blank. Her fingers absently ran along the bindings of her well-worn journal while she considered the goods on display, glancing across the empty books before her; each of them new, no thoughts yet entered within them. So deep in thought, Trasal's approach behind her went utterly unnoticed until he surprised her with sudden word.

"Something occupy your thoughts, Lady Siderel?"

Glancing behind herself with a slight raise of her brow, the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Watching me?"

"Not purposefully." He stepped forward, cane leaving soft indents in the loose soil. "I've been keeping an eye on the crowd. No wish for petty theft on my watch, hm?"

"Mm." She turned back to the stall, her head canted just slightly. "…Trasal, would you consider a journal a welcome gift?"

"A gift?" With a quiet chuckle, he moved to her side, eyes aglint as he teased. "Well, I appreciate the thought, but that's hardly necessary."

The tip of her mouth crooked as she rolled her eyes. "No."

Looking over the wares himself, he appraised the quality; he wasn't especially knowledgeable on the details of book-binding, but these certainly seemed well-made enough. "It would depend on the person, I imagine."

"Somebody who doesn't travel, but has need of keeping notes."

He nodded absently, his attention taken for a spell by the printed works as he skimmed over the titles on display. "Then I'd imagine it would indeed be welcome, yes."

She hummed lightly to herself in thought, hand now fidgeting mildly against her own book. "And what if it was meant to be a special gift? Would it carry the meaning across well?"

Curious now, he looked back towards Tiana. "Now, that depends on just what you mean by 'special', dear Tiana." He couldn't help but grin, only to earn a sharp glance in return.

"Would it pain you to humor me and generalize?"

"Ah, only a tad, my friend." Smirking, he patted her shoulder. "But I'm sure it will be fine. A lovely woman like yourself, any gift would seem special."

She gave him an appraising look, trying to judge his sincerity. After a moment, she relaxed, sighing quietly to herself, cheeks showing the slightest hint of gold. "Well…thank you."

"Of course. I'll leave you be to your purchase, then." And with a grin and a bow of his head, met with a slim smile of Tiana's own, he stepped off.

Chapter Text

The eighteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

As locals swarmed over the caravan, Cairon and Cathra sat near the mess wagon with Jazaka and Jreen. Now that they were camped in place, the high-ups took no time bringing the good stores out, to the welcome relief of all those on this particular job. Eggs, potatoes, biscuits, fresh fruit, and of course, fresh fish straight from the loch. Compared to the last days of oatmeal, dried fruit, jerky, and rations, it was near a feast to the lot of them; even Jreen had nothing to complain about this time around, though the others were a tad discomforted by the raw meat torn to shreds as he ate.

"Y'can't do all that somewhere alone, y'mutt?" Cathra scowled, arm covering her own plate as she stared across the outdoor table.

"Jreen prefers eating with company! Boring alone."

"Just leave him be, Cathra." Jazaka snorted, stabbing a large chunk of melon with her fork. "He'll be done soon enough."

"Mmph. It's like eatin' next to a rainstorm."

With a slight smirk, Cairon stood, jerking his head over. "C'mon. Switch spots with me if it bugs y'that much."

She looked to him with a mild smile, a brief one, before grunting, sliding aside. "Y'just want t'be closer t'your boyfriend, don't you?"

"Yep, you saw right through me." With a roll of his eyes, he settled back down, slapping Jreen's shoulder. "'s all a big scheme." Snatching a berry from her plate, he popped it into his mouth without a word.

"Hey! 's mine!" Shoving his side, she glared. "Y'don't grab from my plate, berk! Y'wanna be shivved?"

He grinned, eyes aglint. "Figured y'wouldn't mind anymore, after...y'know. Y'want some o'mine?"

Through narrowed eyes she stared at him for a long moment, their companions already sighing silently in expectation for the long tirade sure to come. All that followed, though, was a mild blush and a scowl as her hand snapped out, grabbing of a chunk of biscuit. She took a firm bite, gulping it down as she seemed to settle. "Fine. This time. But next time y'better ask! Just 'cause we're...well, I ain't your wife or nothin'."

"Oh, you interested?"

Fixing her eyes on Cairon, she grabbed for the pepper, popping the lid open and upending it over his fish as she spoke calmly. "Just gonna say now. No...no jokes 'bout that. Y'got it?"

Though still clearly amused, Cairon nodded, taking a slow breath. "Aye, aye. I promise, none."

Jazaka's frills fluttered in glee — she'd seen this ages ago, and romantic as she was a part of her had hoped for this for the sake of both of them, she couldn't deny — but Jreen simply looked back and forth and back again between the two of them. Finally, he spoke plainly.

"Cathra and Cairon have mated?"

Whirling on Jreen, Cathra sputtered, but before she could say more the ground shook sharply beneath them all, leading all present to scramble to their feet and peer about for the source. Then another, and a third. No earthquake, it seemed; no regular shaking, merely the occasional shudder. The source proved no mystery for long, as a deep, rumbling shout erupted forth from the valley pass.

"Down with the Tuath Dé, and down with their allies!"

Again and again, the call rolled over the caravan, in at least a half-dozen voices. All present bolted to the source, where massive figures easily a dozen feet tall towered atop the hill, slim goat-like horns stretching back from the crowns of their heads. Each bore massive stones, tossing them with ease onto the road out from the lake valley. Already, a massive pile spanned the narrow route, large enough that it would take their number days to clear the pass. Muttering in irritation, Jreen glanced to Jazaka, quietly describing the sight to her. Cairon and Cathra stared agape, while Trasal and Tiana — just arriving from the markets — watched the giants in silent consideration.

"Oh, they're...they're big fellas, aren't they?" Still staring, Cairon could only scratch at his head, having trouble processing this all this early in the day. Cathra, though, had enough of a reaction to cover the both of them.

"Wh-...th' hells?" She screwed up her brow, eyes flicking up and down over the scene as she snarled, tail whipping back and forth. "What're they doin'? Why...what?"

"...damn it." Coming up from behind, Palot sighed, rubbing his face, as the group looked towards him. "Fomoire."

"Huh?" Cairon quirked his head. "What's a fom...fomor?"

"Fomoire. They're the berks what lived here before Danu's people came in." Palot scowled, arms crossed. "Haven't yet gotten over the old grudges. Still think they can bring back the age of the giants, so they stir up trouble every so often, trying to get the 'little folk' like us to stop coming around. Think it'll convince the locals to leave one day. Soddin' fools is what they are."

Trasal looked briefly to Palot, a brief, fiery flash flaring in his eyes, but he tamped it down before any took notice. Taking a slow breath, he spoke in quiet, even tones. "Perhaps we ought speak with them."

Palot scoffed, chuckling darkly. "Y'can try. Good luck on that. I say just teach 'em a lesson they should've learned three thousand years ago."

Tiana raised a brow as Trasal scoffed himself in return; his ire at the man was still well-contained for most, but she knew him well enough to see the subtle signs, the tiny sparks flecking in his eyes, surprised to see his rage so fervent on this. She found the man offensive herself, but it was rare to see Trasal so directly struck.

"Because slaughtering them will surely get these boulders cleared." Looking over his companions, Trasal nodded back towards the wagon. "Come, friends; let's speak with our leader on this little trip. Volunteer our services. Perhaps we can find a more intelligent means of resolving this than charging in with blades drawn." Without even a look over the others, he left for the lead wagon, deep divots left by his cane on the way. Palot merely rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about elves as he made his way towards the boulders with others of the guard, while Cairon shrugged.

"I like Trasal's idea better'n his. Let's go after him?"

Jreen snorted, his ear flicking back. "Jreen thinks better first plan. But Jreen has thoughts in mind for second if necessary." With a jerk of his head, he started off after Trasal, the rest soon following behind.

At the lead wagon, Brex Dalestrider, head of the caravan, spoke with his second in clipped tones, working to best arrange his people for clearing the pass. A bariaur — a tauroid, with the lower body of a ram and the upper of a well-muscled humanoid — his curved horns were lightly engraved and inked in curving patterns, his beard neatly trimmed, and his satin tunic emblazoned over the left breast with the emblem of the PTC.

The sound of a brisk knock echoed from the wagon's door, pulling him from his conversation. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes to his second, his words still tinged with a Ysgardian accent even after decades away. "Double-check the inventory records over in my office. See if we have any explosives in stock we might've just missed." The halfling briskly nodded, heading out to the adjacent room, as Brex spoke up to the entrance. "Yes? Better be important!"

Pushing the door open, Trasal stepped inside, showing a slim smile. "Ah, quite, I think, Sir Dalestrider."

Brex grunted wordlessly, arms crossed. He'd been put off by this half-elf the entire trip, and he's not much eager for whatever nonsense he's about to spill. He stared Trasal down, waiting for him to continue, but Trasal showed no sign of discomfort; one of many things that's bothered him about this one.

"We obviously have some trouble right now, hm? I would like to volunteer the help of myself and my friends in dealing with this trouble."

He grunted again, grumbling; another group of soddin' bashers eager to kill them all? Brainless merc types.

Brex begins to open his mouth, about to tell him to sod off (in kinder words, of course; they've still got half the route to go), but Trasal charged ahead with that irritating smirk.

"I have some experience in negotiation, you see; most would be surprised how often an inquisitor needs to resolve a dispute, or talk a quarry out of an ill-thought situation. A few of your people out there are eager to take up arms and charge off, clearly. But I feel we can resolve this with less bloodshed, less trouble for the locals we stand here to aid, and less risk to us all."

He blinked, taken off-balance by this. "Ah...you want to go...talk to them?"

Trasal nodded sharply, hands resting in front of him on his cane.

"...hm." He snorted, canting his head. Funny how a single exchange can make you re-evaluate a person so quickly. "...might have a chance. No chance anyone has a clue which clan it was, do they?"

His eyes glinted in amusement as he shook his head. "I heard much commentary on their parentage, but nothing that specific, no."

"Mmph. Not sure which it would've been; none of them actually live in this area. If it's the Fir Damnann, you might have a chance. The Galioin, you'll probably be crushed before you can say a word." Brex watched Trasal closely at this comment, but it didn't seem to set him off even a step.

"Well, that's the risk of any chat. But we'll keep the warning in mind. Do we have your approval to speak in the name of our fair Consortium, then?"

A long silence stretched on, as Brex rolled this around in his head. Finally, he chuckled, half-grinning to the presumptive merc. "Fine. Better head on your shoulders than the rest of these bashers. Try to keep it there. And don't give away too much, we still need to come back with a profit."

Stretching his hand out to Brex, Trasal smiled agreeably. "Oh, I wouldn't dare. I'm sure it would be taken straight from our own pay, after all, hm?

"'course, what else? You've got six hours."

"I won't disappoint, Sir Dalestrider." And with a quick nod, Trasal ambled out, easing the door closed behind him.

After a brief conversation, Trasal caught his companions up on what was resolved.

"So. We've been given permission to speak for the Consortium. We follow them, and we arrange a deal."

"An' if that goes Lower?" Cathra watched Trasal warily; not as dismissive as she might have recently been, a hint of hope in her eyes that she'd long missed. But still cautious.

Before Trasal could speak up, Jreen rapped the butt of his spear on a nearby stone. "Then Jreen will be ready with second plan."

"...right. An' what is this 'second plan'?"

"Jreen makes self grow massive. Clear rocks himself."

Cairon quirked his head. "Y'can do that?"

"...yeah, he can." Cathra shrank a bit into herself, arms wrapped around her chest. "Saw'im do it back in...back home."

Jazaka looked towards her, gripping her shoulder without word as Cathra tried to wave memories away, and Cairon nodded in acknowledgement, looking back to Jreen in hopes of moving the subject back away. "Big as they were?"

"Bigger, perhaps. Jreen isn't sure. But big enough to clear boulders, Jreen thinks. Slowly, but could be done."

"Good!" Trasal smiled, with a sharp nod. "That will be important, because of course if we fail, these Fomoire aren't likely to be too pleased."

"...ah." Cairon stared at Trasal for a moment. "Aye, tha'...no, suppose they wouldn't, eh?"

"Which is why, with this backup plan of ours, I think half should join me, and half should keep here, with our resident alchemical genius. There's no need for us all to risk leaping into the firepit." He peered over the lot, smiling optimistically. "I'd ask Tiana and Jazaka to accompany me, while our newly forged lovebirds keep Jreen safe."

Cathra flushed, huffing and glaring to Cairon. "Jus' tell everyone why dont y'."

"Hey, I didn't say a word!" Holding his hands up in surrender, he laughed. "Don' look at me!"

"I do uncover hidden truths for a living, Cathra." Trasal laughed, shaking his head. "And simply...no offense, friends. But I believe Tiana and Jazaka will likely be somewhat...more useful in negotiation than any the rest of us. Myself included."

"...eh, can't argue with that." Cairon chuckled, grinning, as Tiana fell even more stoic, refusing to respond to the praise. Jazaka seemed a bit surprised herself, but neither did she argue.

Cathra shrugged, looking back towards Jazaka. "...yeah, seems fair t'me." With a snort, she leaned back, arms crossed. "So you sods go rattle y'r bone-boxes at th'giants, an' we'll get ready t'shiv 'em if they show 'round here."

With a sharp nod, Trasal grinned to Cathra, standing briskly. "Then we'll be off! And I'll wish you all a boring and uneventful morning until our return."

The journey across the hills was quiet, Tiana focused and silent while Trasal and Jazaka filled the gap with idle conversation; she still wasn't entirely certain as to why she was invited along, but for now at least, she had no desire to press the issue. The trail was clear, blatant, a line of massive footprints standing bright in the grass. Trasal kept lead as Tiana gently guided Jazaka behind, the two talking absently on giants, plans, thoughts, and the simple beauty of the land. Finally, after some two hours' walk, the three spotted their erstwhile foes. Nestled in a valley between a trio of massive hills set a small open-air encampment; small in a relative sense, of course, for even the sole tent stood as tall as some full-grown trees. A massive bonfire flickered in the center, little more than a cooking flame for the two dozen red-haired Fomoire arrayed around it, a great amount of meat piled within for their midday meal. The scent of their cooking wafted up towards the three on a light breeze, to Trasal's relief; they were downwind, then, the better to reach them well before being spotted.

"Hm. Not a village. Good." Trasal peered down, leaning on his cane as he evaluated and processed. "Less attachment. With our luck, they were just passing by and caught sound of the caravan. A sudden whim, not a concerted effort."

Tiana nodded. "May be more persuadable."

"Shall I take the lead, then? It worked well enough last time."

Bowing her head, Tiana took a step back. "I'll be a step behind you."

"Mmph." Jazaka snorted, hand tightening on her hanbo. "I'm trusting your diplomatic skills, Trasal. Please don't get us killed."

"Never worry, Jazaka." Looking over his shoulder, Trasal smiled. "I haven't been killed yet, after all."

Jazaka quickly shook her head with another snort, but chose not to dignify that argument with a reply.

With a tiny quirk of her mouth, Tiana passed a quick message to Trasal in sign, a teasing glint in her eyes. If we do get killed, shall I blame you? Trasal merely smirked as she took Jazaka's arm, guiding her down the hill carefully behind him. Her frills fluttered as she looked towards Tiana, saying in a stage whisper, "Don't worry. We can take over if he fumbles too much."

At the fore of the group, Trasal cast a quick aura of defense about himself — sure to be necessary very shortly, with the plan he had in mind — and started straight-backed down the hill. Making no effort at stealth, he set course straight for the edge of the camp, walking with a pride and confidence that at least seemed to be earned. It seemed almost contagious, as Tiana and Jazaka joined in his approach, Tiana giving the camp an almost-dismissive look while Jazaka pulled herself to her full height, as little as that might mean among giants.

Blatant as he was, it was but moments before they were noticed, mutterings and laughter passed from one to another. With not a moment's hesitation, Trasal walked straight to the nearest of their number, shrugging his pack to the ground as he stared towards them, his voice well-belying his stature as it boomed forth with surprising strength. "I demand to see the leader of this camp! We are here to negotiate. Any hostility to this offer will be taken as an offense against the Fates themselves."

Jazaka and Tiana held firm behind Trasal, both looking with equal intent towards the twelve-foot, russet-haired colossus now staring down the three of them with a dismissive grin, spearshaft gripped at his side. He took a step to Trasal, not two feet from him now, forcing him to crane his head to merely keep looking him in the eye. "And what gives you the right to speak with any of us, let alone our leader?"

Trasal didn't budge an inch, cane gripped tightly, yet with a forced casualness as he stared up towards the giant. He stared back without even a blink, presenting an icon of silver almost absently, three scourges woven and braided about one another. "I am a man of Justice. A vessel for the Furies. All men and women are within my right, high or low. And by Alecto, I would have his word."

With a grunt, the giant prodded at the symbol with the butt of his spear. "Never heard of them. But we don't truck with elven gods around here. Go take your screed-"

"I challenge you."

The giant blinked, taken off-guard. "Eh?"

"You heard me. In the name of Annam, the All-Father, I challenge you — personally — for the right for us to beseech your leader."

Jazaka stared towards Trasal in confusion, and even Tiana looked a bit off-balance at the suddenness of this declaration; she'd never heard Trasal say a word about giants in the past, his apparent knowledge of them a rare surprise to her after so long working together. The giant seemed no less shocked, taking a brief moment to collect himself. He laughed with a quick shake of his head, a low rumble barely coming forth. "We're a long ways from Asgard, little elf. The people of the Fomoire haven't looked to Annam in thousands of years."

"He is still he who brought you forth, isn't he? I've made the challenge. Are you declining it before your peers? Do you fear a lone man?"

Appraising Trasal, the giant took a step back, considering matters. Finally, with quirked mouth, he nodded. "Fine. Don't think you've goaded me. Just curious to see. The old ways? Until one of us concedes?"

"No better, hm?" With a cocky smile, Trasal held his cane — blade still sheathed — in a fencing stance, the jeweled grip tight in his right hand as he held it aloft over his head, his left arm thrown ahead of him. His eyes were aglint as he looked over the massive figure, subtle spellwork weaving through his form, allowing him to better spy weaknesses in his foe's defense. "Take the first strike."

Hardly an instant before he finished speaking, the giant had thrust his spear. With a quick pivot, Trasal spun out of its way, taking hold of it as it rushed by and wrenching it as hard as he could manage. Not expecting the sudden move, the massive hunter was unprepared, suddenly taken off-balance. Bringing his cane down with his full strength, Trasal struck the giant's thumb atop the spear shaft, a sharp crack echoing forth. As his grip loosened, Trasal shoved back against the spear and let go, forcing the giant's left shoulder back as he barely managed to keep from stumbling over.

Trasal backstepped as quick as he could manage as the giant swung his spear in a broad arc, but he wasn't quite fast enough, the shaft clipping his temple and dazing him at the worst moment, blood beginning to pour across his cheek. He slipped in the grass, now prone on his back as his foe shook his hand out, his right thumb already visibly swelling, quite possibly fractured if Trasal's aim was true. He brought his spear down onto Trasal, getting his senses back just in time to pull his cane above him, gripping it from either end to deflect the spear to the side. Even in a one-handed grip, the giant's strength still resonated through his arms, bringing an ache to his shoulders that he did his best to ignore as he jumped to his feet.

Dropping his spear, the giant took a broad swing at Trasal with his uninjured fist. He darted to the side with a light grip on the giant's arm, pulling him forward just enough to get behind him. In an instant, Trasal shifted his cane to his left hand and jabbed hard with his right, slamming his fist into the back of the giant's knee and forcing him to the ground. The giant caught himself as he fell forward, giving Trasal the opportunity he needed; leaping onto his back, he pulled his cane around the giant's massive neck and pulled back, squeezing his arms together in a makeshift chokehold. As the giant stood, Trasal wrapped his legs around his waist, clinging with all his strength as his foe swung and grabbed for him. He winced through the blows to his back, redoubling his strength even as his vision again began to swim. Soon, the giant was down, unconscious.

Letting him go, Trasal tumbled to the ground and followed suit shortly after, to the cheers of the crowd he hadn't even noticed gathering about them.

With a grimace, Tiana stepped up to Trasal as Jazaka moved to see to the giant. She tutted quietly to him, regardless of if he could actually hear her right now. "Foolish." Kneeling beside him, she held her hand to his temple, scowling and silent as his eyes fluttered open, tissue stitching itself together beneath Tiana's touch.

"...I do believe I won that."

Still grimacing, she brushed dried blood from his skin, hand moving to his shoulder where she gripped perhaps a bit harder than necessary as she healed. "You should have said word what you'd planned."

"And given you the chance to talk me out of it?" He sighed, wincing at her grip, but didn't bother trying to pull free. "I know their ways. This was the quickest way to see their leader."

"You know some giants' ways. A question I'll pose for you another time, that." Still disapproving, she let go, standing and staring down at him. "If he hadn't humored you?"

"Then I would have had my own personal charm to fall back on."

"Hm." She gave him a firm look, pressing him back down as he tried to stand. "No. Not after this." She looked to Jazaka as she healed the wounds, Trasal's opponent still out but his wounds already looking well. "Sit. Rest. We'll go." She looked about the dispersing crowd, only a few remaining to watch over Jazaka tend to their companion warily, but with gratitude. When Trasal gets a look at all, it's with a respect that wasn't there mere moments ago. "It seems you'll be safe here alone. And perhaps you'll be back to your senses by the time we return."

He frowned, trying again to stand; this time, Trasal didn't even need Tiana's pressure to fall back to the ground, head spinning enough to leave him pale. With a frustrated grimace, he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Just...be careful. And be respectful."

"We could hardly end up in a worse situation than you did."

"Not for your sake. For theirs." Closing his eyes, he lowered himself to the ground, laying prone. "We're in their home, after all."

"...mm." Tiana's brow furrowed; she couldn't argue the point. Yet there was a tinge of emotion in his voice that she'd never heard before. More questions for later, then. "We will. You have my word."

"Thank you. Now...go, before I change my mind." With a tired grin, Trasal chuckled, eyes still closed as he kept his breathing steady, holding back the nausea of vertigo. Tiana smiled back, a quiet puff of air through her nose as she joined Jazaka, to offer her the new, revised plan.

After a brief talk from Tiana, Jazaka stared towards the lone tent with some trepidation. She knew when they left that she might have to take lead on the discussion, but knowing and doing are two very different things.

With one last inspection of her patient, she took a deep breath, looking back to Tiana. "Shall we?"

With a brisk nod of her own, Tiana started off beside her, giving her a quick glance. "And I would suggest you take lead. You'd likely be more...adept at negotiation. It's never much been a talent of mine."

Jazaka snorted, giving Tiana a brisk shake of her head. "I thought you'd say that. Well...I've never spoken with a giant before. This ought be interesting."

Crossing the camp, the two had no small number of looks thrown their way; some irritated, some impressed, but none looked to be ignoring the small ones as they approached the camp's sole tent. Jazaka entered first, pushing the cloth flap aside; a heavy musk struck her fast, and she couldn't help but sneeze before grunting in annoyance. Stepping inside, she could just barely tell the canvas towering overhead, almost too tall for her to distinguish. In the corner, a...pack? Pile? Whatever it may be, it stood nearly as tall as she did. Ahead, she could see a single figure, one who seemed to be the tallest amongst all here. Everything was so tall, she couldn't help but feel as though she was a child again, an odd anxiety creeping over her thoughts that she did her best to dismiss.

Drawing herself to her full height, her clouded eyes boring into their own, she grinned, showing a hint of fangs. Behind her, she could sense Tiana standing firm, their presence buoying her.

Before she said a word, the figure spoke; a woman, she seemed, her voice booming just short of painfully. "So I hear tell you seek audience with me. And you caused harm to one of my hunters in the process."

"Your hunter is well. We ensured that before coming. But yes." She flared her frills out straight, presenting as much confidence as she could muster. "I am Jazaka, and these are my allies. We are here on behalf of the Planar Trade Commission, and we would speak to you about your recent...attack."

"It was no attack," she said, her words snapping sharply. "We are not that foolish."

"Your disruption, then, if semantics are so important to you."

"Mmph." Her figure shifted. "Speak, then."

She nodded. "Of course, lady...?"

"Iuchanan. Just Iuchanan. Of the Fir Damnann."

Jazaka nodded again. "Iuchanan, then. The Commission wishes no harm to you. We struggle to see why blocking our trade routes and delaying us aids your cause."

Iuchanan grunted, seeming to take a seat. "You treat with those under Danu's gaze. You trade goods with them. The villages of Loch Finn rely on your business." She paused, shifting position. "We're wise enough to not strike directly. We won't bring the wrath of the Morrigan on our lords. But that doesn't mean we'll do naught. These were ours, and they will be ours again!"

Jazaka tilted her head thoughtfully. She could see her point, even if she spoke of events thousands of years hence. And yet, something of that struck at her; something familiar. Something jumping the millennia, resonating with her as the beacon that's drug her around the planes these many months.

"...I...see. And I'm not unsympathetic. But...it is not our place to choose sides."

"You choose sides by trading with them!"

She bowed her head, frills flared. "And we would gladly trade with the Fomoire just as well."

With another grunt, Iuchanan shook her head sharply. "I can tell you're blind, but you can't be so blind as to think they would let us into their lands."

"It would hardly be their choice, would it?" Jazaka offered another predatory grin. "The Consortium trades with all. I speak with you because you seek to have us cease trade with them. I would speak with them just the same were they to seek us to refuse trade to you."

Iuchanan fell silent, and though Jazaka couldn't see her face, she could feel her attention on her. Through the silence, she pressed on.

"We could hardly solve your problems ourselves. They've held firm longer than my people have even lived on the Planes, it sounds. But I can guarantee you, the wagons of the Planar Trade Consortium will be as open to you as they are to them."

After a long pause, Iuchanan finally spoke again; laughed, even, her voice tinged with surprise. "You're quite the silver-tongued man, aren't you?"

"Woman," Jazaka said by reflex, grunting in her mind. Mammals.

"Oh? Woman, then. And if they object?"

"They can choose not to trade with us. But they will not prevent us from trade with you."

Another long silence, before she finally stood. "This is...acceptable enough."

"You will clear our way, then?"

"We will. By this evening."

With one last grin, Jazaka bowed deeply, frills spread wide. "Then we will look forward to your presence amongst our stalls. Until then, Iuchanan."

"Until then."

Turning in place, Jazaka started out the tent, a jerk of her head for Tiana to follow. Once outside, she folded her frills as her head nervously jerked again and again, careful to keep her words low enough around the others. The confidence she held drained as though a barrel was unplugged, and she sank, laughter threatening to bubble up that she could only just hold back "Oh gods but that was terrifying."

"Yet an impressive showing, Jazaka." Tiana smiled, shaking her head in amazement. "Your instinct still-."

"No." Hesitant, Jazaka faltered in her step, judging how much to say but feeling that she ought not let misconceptions continue further. She glanced towards Tiana, mouth dry as she tried to find the words. "No, it's...I didn't wish to say before, but, it's no instinct. The closest I'd ever come to anything like this before our motley crew was arguments with my older sisters. But this? I don't have a clue where this comes from. It's no instinct I'd ever had before; it's more as though the words simply spring to mind. One of many...new talents I've found myself with."

"Interesting." Raising a brow, Tiana glanced askance to her, thoughts of her preternatural skill at talking down the most contentious of people flashing back to her, along with her odd luck with the crossbow some days hence. "When did this start?"

"Ah..." Jazaka thought over what to say; as much as she's come to trust Tiana these last days, there are still aspects of her history, her nature, her position as an oracle that she's unsure on sharing. "...recently. More than that is...personal."

Her smile faltered slightly; as open as Jazaka'd been in the past with her, she was surprised to find her so reticent. Again, though, thoughts of the fhorge came back, of how quiet Jazaka was for the day to follow. And of how she'd hardly seen Jazaka even touch her crossbow since.

Whatever her curiosity, though, all people have their secrets, she thought to herself. And Jazaka deserves hers. "Of course, I wouldn't seek to pry into such things for a friend." She nodded towards where Trasal was left. "Shall we, then?"

"Let's. Do you think he'll have gotten himself into even more trouble?"

She laughed, a short snort. "I usually do."

Chapter Text

The eighteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Sitting on the outskirts of the camp, Cairon's attention was split. He was to keep an eye on the hills, of course; if things go poorly with the rest, the caravan would need to know if a horde of giants were stomping towards them. Usually poor habit to keep a crossbow loaded, he thought as he glanced to the weapon sitting in the grass beside him, but he wasn't going to take a chance of even the slightest delay.

Still, he's confident in the three of them. Trasal, Tiana, Jazaka, they're all brilliant folk, all good with talking, and if they say they can talk the giants down, he'd believe them. Their mission, then, had given him some time for something he'd put off for a while.

And something he continued to put off, staring down at the blank sheet of parchment in his lap dotted with a few specks of dripped ink.

"Oy." Cathra approached from behind, plopping down beside him and breaking him from the thoughts whirling around in his mind. He grinned to her as she looked to the sheet, befuddled. "Whatzat?"

"Supposed t'be a letter." He grunted, tapping his quill against the side of his ink well.

"Aren't letters supposed t'have more...words'n that?"

Cairon's only response was to sigh, dropping the quill and falling back into the grass. He rubbed his face with a long groan. "Been meanin' t'write Hanna an' Zara since we got to Plague-Mort. But jus'..."

Laying back on her side, Cathra watched him, her mouth a bit twisted in empathy. "Don't know what t'say?"

"...'s part. But...every time I try, Cathra, every time I think about what I want t'say to them, I jus'...I think about it all over again. I think about...what I'd wanna say t'Mum an' Dad. An' I...see them again." Starting to shake, he dropped his hands to his sides, gripping the grass as though the ground itself could hold him steady. "I see them, an' they're...there, an' cold, an'-"

At a loss, Cathra looked away, mouth opening and closing as she hunted for what to say. Finally, her arm darted out as she took his hand cautiously, as though unsure how. "...'m sorry."

"...'m I...did I abandon them? They...Mum an' Dad died, an' I jus'...left."

"We left. An'...an' you left t'protect them. An' they're in the care of maybe..." She fell silent, fighting back the fear rising in her own chest at opening to Cairon. "...maybe the best person who could watch over them now. Matt...he's...he's a good...a good sort."

He looked to her, eyes wet, as his fingers stroked the back of her hand. "...a good dad?"

Cathra's eyes snapped to Cairon, a snarl threatening to erupt forth as she felt suddenly struck to her core, held back in part by his touch. She didn't speak, but she didn't challenge it either, simply glancing back away as she gripped more tightly, face flushed with clashing emotions.

"...d'you think they blame me? Not...not bein' there?"

"Never. All th'time I spent with them, they...they weren't joyed, but they didn't say a word 'gainst you. An'...they'll want to hear about all th'stupid shit you've done since then."

"...you too, y'know. Pretty sure Zara wants t'be you when she gets older."

Cathra froze at that, a low rumble in her chest that Cairon couldn't place. With a quick jerk of her head, she tugged Cairon back up to sitting, as though he'd said nothing at all. "C'mon. You write t'them, we'll put it in t'get sent off by the sparrows, an' then we'll see what stupid thing Jreen's near killin' himself with this time."

He smiled uneasily, letting go of Cathra as he took up his quill. She gathered herself up, leaning against his side to watch, as Cairon put shaky hand to parchment.

Dear Hanna and Zara,

Before everything else, I love you both. Goes better at the start than the end, huh?

Chapter Text

The eighteenth of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

At ease as ever, Tiana walked the path back to the caravan, Jazaka and Trasal to either side: she striding confidently, frills flared in satisfaction; he unsteady, still dizzied from his fight. Both quite warranted in her eyes. She considered Trasal, his good spirits seeming a little more forced than usual. Any attempts at asking him about it on their return from the camp had been thoroughly rebuffed with nothing more than a shrug. Perhaps something of his history; two years of travel together in the name of Law, of close friendship, and he's still been quiet on most of his past. Raised by his human father, she knew, with almost no word of his elven mother. Some incident with the Inquisition of the Furies which led to his wanderings, with little more comment than a private joke about things "getting a little too hot for him to handle"; the implication clear even to her, given his anger, but not anything she's ever wanted push. And now some connection to giants?

Twenty-eight years of life he's had, and that's all he's deigned to speak of. She's never pried, but this incident's made her curious in a way she'd never been before. Perhaps because this would be the first time their journey seemed to have touched Trasal so personally? Or perhaps just that she'd never thought to ask. Certainly, Trasal did the dragon's share of the speaking for the two of them.

Pondering how to address the question tonight, her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cry from the camp ahead; clearly Cathra, shouting something about a...furball. Closing her eyes, she took a slow breath, pulling her hand from her sword's hilt as she sped up. "What is it this time, do you think?"

"By Semuanya, I don't even know." Jazaka snorted, pressing the balls of her hands just below her ear membranes in an exaggerated gesture of frustration. "It's always something new with those two, isn't it?"

Trasal peered ahead, grinning. "Well, I don't hear any other screaming, so it must not be that-"

He winced as Cairon's voice cut through, much nearer.

"Jreen! How- gah! Get'em off! Get'em off!"

Before any more questions could be raised, Cairon and Cathra charged around a wagon, running wildly as they rubbed madly at their arms, bodies, heads, sloughing off dozens upon dozens of...spiders?

The three stared in utter confusion, but Jazaka was the first to break free, darting up to them both. Near enough to see them slapping at themselves, she cursed under her breath as she dowsed them both, conjured water streaming from her hands. "What in the Planes happened?"

Trasal charged up behind her with a scowl, past the three. "I think I know!" Behind them, a near-field of small, black spiders — no more than house spiders, they seemed — marched from beneath the wagon after them, but Trasal managed to intercept them just in time, his cane swirling with flame and his eyes flaring with furious light as he spewed out invective. Tiana kept a bit of distance, frowning; the emotion coursing through him must have been even stronger than she thought, if he's able to channel this one. At least he's been granted an outlet before it erupted

"By the Fates damned and divine, what the hellacious fury do you think you blithering beasts, you worthless maggots, are doing?! Burn to ash, lest you suffer the wrath of my boot upon your swollen black carapaces!"

With each word, flame flickered and jumped from one beast to another, torching them each in kind and reducing them to mere cinders that shortly vanished in tiny puffs of black dust. As they burned, Tiana checked over their two victims; soaking wet, with the occasional welt here and there, but now free from arachnid torment. Though somewhat drained from aiding Trasal, she shared what energy she had remaining upon Cathra as Jazaka tended to Cairon, bites vanishing beneath their care.

Panting for breath, Trasal wiped at his forehead. "Sodding spiders, and their...spindly legs." He looked up just in time to see Jreen stumble around the corner, coughing and leaning against the cart, a few small stray spiders falling from his throat.

"That...was the worst experience...of Jreen's life."

While Cairon and Cathra stomped the last few stragglers, Tiana and Trasal merely stared at a sight that, even for Jreen, was a shock.

Surprisingly, Tiana was the first to break the silence. "Jreen. Why are you coughing up spiders."

"Th'furball was doin' one of his experiments." Cathra glared, shuddering. "Stumbled up t'us askin' for help, an' all of a sudden, just..." She gagged, turning away.

"Jreen was...trying for wasps."

"That's not better."

Wincing, Jreen leaned against the cart, letting loose a scratchy, wheezy laugh. "Was new extract! Jreen did not expect spiders to form so low. Will hold extract in mouth next time as well."

Again, Jazaka pressed her hands below her ears. "Jreen. Under what scenario would vomiting spiders — or wasps — come in handy?"

"As Jreen said, Jreen didn't expect vomiting."

"Jreen."

He laughed again, more uneasily, head bowed. "Creatures were supposed to listen to Jreen. But Cathra stepped on spiders, and spiders were upset. Jreen will have better control next time. Like Jazaka's bird!"

"Th-...You-..." Jazaka stopped, taking a deep breath. "Perhaps warn Cairon and Cathra next time. Surprise science rarely goes as planned."

"Jreen was trying to experiment in private, so as to not alarm. Then suddenly Jreen was full of spiders. Jreen thinks is a valid excuse for lack of rational planning."

"Jreen. Friend." Cairon walked towards him, hair plastered to his skull, looking torn between frustration and amusement. "Next time, y'come to us, and y'say 'hey, I'm gonna be makin' a bunch of spiders, or wasps, or some other damn foolish thing.'"

He cocked his head, snorting. "So Jreen must inform Cairon of all Jreen's actions?"

"Th'ones that involve vomiting spiders? Yes!" He sighed, glaring with all the anger he could muster. "Now don't y'think you owe Cathra somethin'?" Behind him, Cathra looked surprised for a moment, but crossed her arms firmly.

"Cathra stepped on spiders, spiders defended themselves!"

"Oh, stop actin' like a goose, furball!" She rolled her eyes, turning in place to stomp off.

"C'mon, Jreen. I don't mind when y'give me stuff t'experiment with. But I draw the line at somethin' like this."

Sensing things growing out of hand, Jazaka stepped forward, nudging Cairon away from Jreen. "All right, fine, we've all learned something today. Jreen, you make sure at least one person is around for your experiments, and everyone else, be sure never to step on anything Jreen vomits. Agreed?"

Struck hard by the absurdity of it all, Trasal shook his head, grinning. "I imagine you never thought you'd need to say that, Jazaka, hm?"

"Jreen thought humans would know not to step in vomit." He snickered, as Cathra rolled her eyes again, muttering under her breath about not being human.

"Oh, shut up an' get Cathra an apology already, all right?" Cairon slapped Jreen's shoulder, half-smiling.

"Hmph." Mildly chastened, Jreen looked to Cathra through puppy dog eyes. "Jreen is sorry Jreen's spiders bit Cathra."

"...fine. Whatever." Cathra looked over her shoulder to Jreen, frowning, but seeming satisfied with the apology.

"Well!" Trasal stepped up, smiling, looking cheered with the opportunity to vent, even if he was again feeling the weight of his exhaustion. "That was almost as exhilarating as the giants. Come, then; we have a bariaur to chat with, and I have some resting to do, if I don't want these two lovely ladies to knock me unconscious."

Jazaka snorted, shoving Trasal along as he laughed. "Come on, then."

His eyes twinkled as he looked towards those who stayed behind. "Ah, but be sure to ask her about her silver tongue. A true peacemaker, our Jazaka."

Cairon watched her with a grin as her frills twitched. "Oh? You'll tell us all about it, eh?"

"...fine, fine." She sighed, snorting with amusement, deciding for once to give in on showing off the gifts she's been granted. "At the fire tonight. And only the lot of you," she insisted, heading off ahead to the store wagon. She won't be going into that on an empty stomach.

Chapter Text

The twenty-first of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Time rolled on as always at the Consortium campsite; the road was cleared, and as promised by Jazaka, trade was opened officially to the Fomorians as much as the villagers, though with no little argument from the locals. Still, Dalestrider knew as well as any how well qualms tend to settle with a little gold passed around, and thanks to the actions of these recent hire-ons, not only was the strife settled, but he'd had his most profitable time in the land of Danann since he'd started this run. Soon enough, the caravan had loaded up and started off once more, another successful session of spreading trade throughout the Outlands. Luck continued to shine upon him on the back-end of the trip, as it was a mere two days' travel before the shining star of Tradegate glimmered on the horizon in the dawning of the sky; a sign of good will from Golden Zilchus, he was certain.

Before long, the worn dirt trail was replaced with carefully-lain, well-tended cobblestone, tiled in a bright purple and gold matching the banners flying along the city walls. Following the path, the caravan rolled into position, one of many wagon trains guided by the angled walls of the city into the warehouse district; far ahead, each wagon coming in was inspected and inventoried for the records — and taxation — of the Master Trader, lord of Tradegate. Their progress slowed to a crawl, Brex decided this to be the best opportunity to send word down the train for his financial saviors to be gathered in his office, that they could be properly rewarded. In minutes, the six travelers stepped up into his wagon, clearly eager to be recognized for their success.

"Ah, welcome! Now that we stand on the cusp of the end of your service, I thought you deserved proper reward for all you'd done to ensure the success of our journey."

Their half-elven leader quirked a brow, looking about his companions before turning back to him. "Oh? It's well appreciated, Sir Dalestrider, if a surprise. Though I'd say our reptilian friend deserves the lion's share of the credit."

"Ey!" The towering tiefling girl glared to him, arms crossed in a huff, as the lizardfolk kept strangely quiet in back. "Don't go talkin' us out of anything, Trasal."

Brex chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned on his desk. "Now, don't fret on that. You'll all be rewarded equally." Reaching into his drawer, he pulled out a few carefully-tied satchels, setting them out to the party with a broad grin. "First, I've doubled your salary for this trip, to a full 20 platinum apiece. And second, I've given each of you a three-day voucher to the Golden Hound, the finest inn in Tradegate."

"Ah...thanks, boss." The human took his bag with wide-eyed, giving him a crooked grin, as the gnoll inspected one of the coins, tasting it suspiciously. "Y'didn't have t'do all that."

"Oh, of course. Good work deserves recognition. And I hope you'll keep the Planar Trade Consortium in mind, should you be looking for any employment in the future."

The half-elf — Trasal, it was, yes — grinned in gratitude, his human partner continuing to stand silently alongside him as she claimed her own reward. "Oh, we certainly will. Good luck on your future ventures, Sir Dalestrider; may all your journeys find as much success."

"Fortune find its way towards you all."

The six of them filed out of the wagon as Cairon rifled through his pay pouch, grinning at their pay; he'd hardly ever seen platinum before. He always figured it'd look just like silver, but it caught the light amazingly as he held a coin up to the brightening sky. "Huh! Nice surprise, that; figured him th'penny-pinchin' sort."

"Can't argue with th'jink, but how good can an inn room really be, anyways?" Cathra looked over the embossed parchment, a bit befuddled.

Trasal chuckled, striding ahead towards the city entrance at the fore of the group. "Oh, you'd be surprised, Cathra. I've heard tell of the Golden Hound in my travels; amazingly luxurious, and far beyond what I would ever spend on myself."

Satisfied with the purity of the metal, Jreen's attention wandered from the conversation, peering instead off beyond the caravan train to a massive work effort some few hundred feet away; the far end of what appeared to be a massive ditch dug by hand and spell, stretching off anticlockwise and leading directly to the city itself, large stone walls easily six foot tall marking either side of the effort. A bit befuddled, Jreen stared at the effort, attempting to divine the purpose through pure inspection, before being jostled from his thoughts by Cairon's voice.

"Supposed t'be a giant market here, aye? Some of us're thinkin' of givin' that a look first thing. What d'you think, wanna come with?"

"Ah...yes! Jreen would like chance to restock supplies, running low on materials. And perhaps some new texts to study."

"Oh, Jazaka said somethin' about gettin' some books too!" Jazaka looked over in sudden alarm, frills fluttering. "Maybe th'two of you could go together, eh?"

"No, I hardly think- Jreen would likely do better looking on his own." She snorted nervously, flicking her head. "I doubt very much we're looking for the same sort of works. Besides, I'd be hunting for large-print, and who knows if we could even find that."

Cathra looked towards her, a bit hesitant. "I could...read to you, Jaz'. If that's not too cute for you or nothin'."

She blinked in surprise, looking back towards Cathra. "Ah...well...let's see what we find. But thank you!"

Tiana, keeping her eyes on the gate ahead, spoke up quietly. "I've no need for shopping at the moment, so I can see to checking us in once more. I imagine this inn should be simple to find, if it's as renown as Trasal says."

"Do y'reckon we'd be here all that long?" Cathra stared across the city walls, trying to catch a glimpse of the buildings within.

Trasal shrugged, cane tapping against the cobblestone as they walked along. "Tough to say, that. Depends how long it takes us to turn over the proper rock."

"Hopefully we can be on our way in a few days," Jazaka said. "But who knows?"

"Worried 'bout gettin' into trouble, Cath'?" Cairon grinned to Cathra.

Rolling her eyes, Cathra jabbed him in the side. "Oh, shut it, berk. Or I'll lead y'into th'less savory parts o'this city, and let y'find your way back on your own."

"Can't say this place looks like those parts'd be all that bad."

"You wanna test that?"

With another grin, he jabbed her right back. "Only if you come with me. Planned t'buy you dinner some time, might as well there, eh?"

Struck a bit wordless, Cathra flushed dark, as Trasal smiled to the bantering pair. "You two are so sweet to each other, aren't you?"

Jazaka offered her own grin. "Hard to tell they aren't already married."

"Adorable, isn't it?"

"Absolutely. Warms my cold-blooded heart, it does."

Scowling at them both, Cathra only turned more purple, growling under her breath. "Both o'you shut up! I ain't married to no berk, lizardbreath."

"Aw, jus' ignore 'em, Cath." He smiled, taking light hold of her hand. "'s what I do. Y'have t'take the high ground or sommat."

Pulling away, Cathra shuffled off from the group with a wordless grunt, tail whipping back and forth along the walkway. Before Cairon could worry too much of her, Jazaka spoke up, giving him an amused snort. "What, you two are the only ones allowed to annoy everyone with your private banter?"

Though watching after Cathra for a moment, Cairon decided to give her a bit of space, turning back towards Jazaka with a smirk. "'Ey, we're not annoyin'. You lot jus' listen in too much."

Trasal chuckled, giving Cairon a crooked grin. "I'm not sure 'listening in' is quite right when it's loud enough for all to hear."

"Besides, it's cute." Jazaka gave a grin of her own.

Cairon began to turn a shade himself, stammering wordlessly as the six reached the gate, leaving him well-thankful for the distraction. As Jazaka stepped forward to help Trasal and Tiana deal with the guards, he looked back towards Cathra, watching as she gripped her wrist awkwardly and stared off at nothing. Stepping towards her, he nudged her lightly in the side, giving her his best smile. "So...dinner, then? We're sorted?"

"Wh-...no. Maybe. I don't know."

"Y'don't know? Why not?"

"...'cause you're bein' a berk."

"Not this time I'm not."

She stared at him wordlessly, unable to disagree. Glancing over her shoulder towards the rest, she lowered her voice even quieter, tail whipping back and forth even harder. "Because Jazaka...look...I don't..." She took a step back, stumbling over her words.

"Is this 'cause she thinks we're cute? 'cause she reads th'most horrible romance books. I've seen 'em. So it's prob'ly a compliment."

She fell quiet, confusion racing across her face. "Jus'...leave me alone for now, Cai'?" She paused, wincing at her choice of words. "Not tha'...'m not mad with you or anythin'. Jus'...need t'be alone, 's all."

"...all right." He nodded, concerned, but understanding enough not to press. "But can we talk in th'inn tonight? Just th'two of us?"

"...yeah. Sure."

He took her hand for a moment, smiling; she squeezed back, showing the barest hint of her own smile, before Cairon moved off to chatter with Jreen, one last brief glance on his way before she started off on her own.

"Thank you, sir." Trasal nodded to the guard with a grin. "Have a pleasant day."

Looking back to his companions, Trasal waved them forward into the city proper, eager to take in this edifice he'd heard tell of for ages. It was certainly...no, ostentatious wasn't quite the right word, for despite the clear paeans to luxury, there was obvious effort put in to ensure balance and beauty shined forth. Buildings in styles from across the planes stood along the open plaza through which wagon after wagon was carefully guided by uniformed city attendants. Each structure little more than storage for the numerous businesses calling Tradegate kip, and yet even here, attention was paid to aesthetics. Marble and limestone alongside old brickwork alongside naturalistic wood, yet there was a certain flow letting it all walk that hair-thin line between contrasting and outright clashing. And even here, the center of the plaza was marked by a beauteous silvered fountain, water rushing up and cascading down in perfect symmetry, a shining edifice to craftsmanship.

At Jazaka's approach, Trasal broke himself from his reverie, grinning to her. "Quite the place, hm?"

She snorted. "I'm sure it's beautiful, the way you seem to be gawking. But I'd hoped to ask; would you mind guiding me towards the market? I'd ask Cathra, but I think we may have upset her."

"Mm...I hope not. More sensitive than she'd like to let know, her. But of course, lady Jazaka." Taking her arm in his, he started ahead. "Just be careful; I have a habit of slipping on flat surfaces like these," he insisted, tapping the violet and gold tiles with his cane. "A half-elven quirk, I'm sure."

"...if you say so." Jazaka offered Trasal a sidelong glance, chuckling quietly in amusement. "Books, of course, but I'd like to seek out a herbalist too, if there's one to find here. Jreen isn't the only to be running low on supplies."

"I do believe the bazaar is this way, then. And I'm certain there is; it's said anything a person might want to buy, they can find here. As well as much a person might not."

She snorted. "That's said about most any large city, I've noticed."

"True, true. But this one, I'd most believe it."

Pressing forward, they chatted here and there, exchanging comments on the party, gossip, stories of their travels, and not a word about their own pasts. Quite the busy city, Tradegate, Trasal noticed, more full with more sorts of people than any he'd been to in ages. And only more crowded as they approached the city's center, a vast pentagon in the middle of its five arms.

Still, the allure of the city continued. At each crossway, the most intriguing trees he'd ever seen; lavender-barked, their carefully-trimmed branches bearing both leaf and needle, and a light scent of maple wafting around each. Underfoot, the ordered patterns of the cobblestone tiling branched and expanded as they approached the bazaar into what seemed to be the edges of a great mosaic, surely a sight which could only truly be appreciated from the air, he imagined, though as active as the bazaar must endlessly be, he'd doubt even the most eagle-eyed of eagles could read its form. Banners stretching overhead, shining the city's colors to all seeking to engage in the art that was commerce. Still, though well-kempt, it indeed seemed not too far from any other city.

And then the Grand Bazaar struck him. It was the sound that was his first sign, the collective murmur of tens of thousands. Previously damped by building (and perhaps some judicious spellwork?), but nearly erupting into prominence as they approached the market's edge, voices and criers and notes of music all intermixed about one another. Jazaka grunted; not quite as sensitive as himself, he'd judged, but surely near to, and taken about as much by surprise. The scent was next; drifting about them on a breeze, carried from the hundreds if not thousands of stalls stretching ahead of them, flowery and earthy and vibrant and delicious all at once. And the sight of it all, a great mass of people milling and wandering, an open plaza market larger than any village and most towns. All senses bombarded at once, almost threatening to overwhelm.

Trasal stopped, needing a moment to take it all in, nearly bowled over by the sheer intensity of it all. "...well. This certainly seems to live up to its word, eh?"

Keeping silent, Jazaka seemed to peer ahead, head lifted and turned this way and that. Finally, she again began to step forward, nearly tugging Trasal along. "This way. I can smell them."

Laughing slightly, he didn't bother to fight it. "Smell them?"

"Herbs! All sorts."

"Oh? Through all this? Impressive! Your nose is certainly more adept than my own, then."

She chortled, frills fluttering. "Well, you've hardly got one to speak of."

"Well, I certainly can't argue there!"

As the rest of the party saw to their interests in the market, Tiana navigated through the streets, stepping off the wide carriage-ways and into the walkways of the denser portions of Tradegate. A tad overdone, the decor of the city; her eye couldn't help but be drawn here and there. Far too blatant for her. Not tasteless to her eyes, but a bit too golden. Too rich. She couldn't help but wonder what the less well-off of the city must think of the showiness. Still, she'd seen worse; even the Mount itself could lean a bit too hard on precious metals here and there.

And the Golden Bariaur itself, as it came into view, seemed much in line with the rest. A massive building the size of a full lodgehouse, its facade spanning fifty feet in either direction and stretching a full three stories into the sky, painted in vibrant, clean white edged in gold, the name etched in flowing Common script over the entryway.

Stepping in was almost a relief from the street, understated in comparison as it was. Immediately beyond the front entrance spanned a restaurant, its own decor dominated by mahogany and fine Ysgardian art, arranged with well-consideration for balance. Even the scents wafting about seemed to be planned so as to match the rough, open feel of the fields of Ysgard.

Following the walkway about the edge to the inn's reception area, she hardly had to wait before settling her room with the worker on duty. The highest floor, with keys even tinted in gold; perhaps the caravan's leader was more thankful than she had realized at the time. Taking a moment to orient herself, she looked over a posted list of services. Food, lounging, a spa...oh, a spa. She hadn't had a proper warm, indoor soak in ages. It's a bit indulgent, but perhaps-

"This place looks nice." Cathra's quiet voice still managed to give Tiana a start, quite unused to being snuck up on.

"...I didn't notice you there, Cathra. You're very quiet."

She grunted, her attention taken by the floor. "Jus' 'cause I don't make any sound don't mean..." She trailed off, unsure what her point was even meant to be.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. It can be useful. Have you already claimed your room?"

"Aye. Y'think it's as good as they say? This room's already bigger'n some inns we've seen so far."

"We ought to see them before supposing much about them."

"Aye..." Cathra frowned, picking at her claws and chewing at her lip. "Maybe I ought have a bottle of something sent up, though..."

"Hm? Well, I suppose if you wish to celebrate, this trip was quite the success."

She grunted. "More jus'...wanna get drunk again an' jus' forget this horrible day."

"Horrible?" Tiana turned towards Cathra, brows just slightly raised. "Had I missed something?"

"All that stuff about me an' Cairon...mmph."

"You and Cairon? What about it?"

"Jus'..." She grunted, shaking her head sharply. "Never mind. You wouldn't get it."

"Mm." Tiana shrugged lightly, starting off for the stairs. When Cathra was of this mind, she had little care to deal with it. "Odd of you to lay judgement so easily, but as you wish."

With a pang of regret, Cathra spoke up as Tiana was halfway up. "...hey...hey, wait. Do...d'ye have any advice? I...I'm 'bout t'cut my brainbox open over all this..."

"...well, I do look at things differently from you, I would say. And second opinions can be useful."

Cathra scratched at her arm, scuffing her foot against the floor. "...how...how 'bout we...head to that spa?" She did her best to smile. "Saw th'way your eyes lit up when y'saw that. Maybe we can talk there?"

Tilting her head, Tiana appraised Cathra. Moments passed by, and finally, she nodded with the vaguest hint of a smile. "I'll gather my supplies. Shall we meet there?"

"...aye. Um...thanks."

"Of course." And bowing her head, she resumed her ascent.

Strolling along the numerous stalls of Tradegate's Grand Bazaar, Cairon kept largely quiet alongside Jreen, watching as he browsed through various goods for his work. Still off-balance from his odd conversation with Cathra, he knew there was something he ought do, but...he hadn't a clue what that should be. This was all uncharted territory for him.

As Jreen held a thick glass mortar bowl up to the air, marveling at the manufacture, Cairon spoke up. "'ey, Jreen? Y'ever...y'ever been together with someone?"

Jreen fumbled, the bowl slipping from his hands. In terror, he snatched for it, grabbing it back up just before it struck the shelf. "What? Why does Cairon ask? Where is that from?"

Laughing, Cairon brushed his hand through his hair as Jreen set the bowl carefully back down. "Jus'...I dunno. Nervous about Cathra, but...I can't ask th'others. But you're...it's diff'rent talkin' t'you."

"Mm." Jreen snickered, turning his attention back to the glassware. "Well, Jreen is afraid Jreen does not have much experience with that. But is very different for gnolls anyway."

"Eh? How's that?"

"For gnolls, women choose men. Jreen has never been chosen. Hasn't yet earned attention."

"...huh." Cairon stared at Jreen, chuckling right back. "Sounds easier. How do you earn that kinda attention?"

"Need to show worth. Show sign of skill, of value. Demonstrate what gnoll can do for mate."

"So...kinda like...giving a gift, huh? I was thinking somethin' like that."

"...Not...Cairon is...mmph." Jreen sighed, snorting. "In a sense, Jreen supposes. Very poor, very inaccurate sense."

Cairon chuckled tonelessly, the sound trailing off into silence. "...jus'...I feel like Cathra's embarrassed of me. Like maybe I'm not good enough for her?" Picking up a slim vial, Cairon fiddled with it in his hands, peering through it absently. "Maybe gnolls do it the right way. Maybe I need t'...prove my worth t'her. Find somethin' nice for her. Somethin' I know she'll like, that'll show I'm not jus'..." Trailing off, he set the vial back down. "...What d'you think, Jreen?"

"...Cathra...reminds Jreen of gnoll women sometimes." He snickered, wagging his tail softly. "So Cairon might have good idea. What would Cairon get?"

"...y'know, she doesn't like t'show it much, but she likes animals. Maybe we could see 'bout somethin' like that?"

Ears perked, Jreen grinned. "Really? Jreen lik-"

Before he could get too invested, Cairon cut him off abruptly, chuckling. "We're not gettin' 'em for food, Jreen."

"Hmph. Then what even is point?" With a wheezy chortle, he returned to his browsing. "Once Jreen finds new equipment, Jreen and Cairon shall go to animal stand? One not far; Jreen can smell it."

"Sounds perfect! And 'til then, y'can tell me what all this stuff is actually for, eh?"

Handing over her coin, Jazaka carefully placed her satchel of herbs in her pack, wrapped well to protect them from any bumping about. Much smoother than she expected, this transaction; the people of Tradegate were certainly much more considerate so far to her needs than those of other cities she'd visited. She supposed, though, that that was to be expected, given all her companions had said about the place. "Mm...I love the scent of fresh medicinal herbs. Smells like good health, don't you think?"

"It's certainly fresh." Trasal gave Jazaka a crooked smile, shaking his head. "But I'm afraid it just smells like leaves to me."

"Shame. Anyway, this ought to be enough for our needs for some time. Assuming that you avoid fighting any more giants, that is," she said, snorting quietly.

"Ah, I can promise little there, my scaled friend." He laughed in turn, taking her arm gently. "Now, then, I believe you mentioned an interest in browsing the books available here? Healers' texts, I imagine?"

"Oh, ah...not quite." Frills ruffled, she pressed on, eyes forward, a sixth-sense seeming to guide her along through the crowds and streets, taking Trasal much more than he took her. With absent chatter back and forth, vague and nonspecific small talk from both of the two, the minutes ticked by in pleasant conversation. On reaching the tomes, though, Jazaka fell quiet, intent, focused on making her way from stall to stall seeking out her goal. And finally, she reached it, her heart skipping a beat as she finally pinned down her quarry. She trilled a bit, an utterly pleasant sound that seemed to draw a smile from Trasal. His interest piqued, he poked over the books himself, curious what it was that Jazaka had been so eager for.

"I assume those sounds are a good sign, friend?"

"Oh, very good." She glanced in his direction; if anyone in their group would find it appealing, Trasal seemed the most likely. "Are you...familiar with romance fiction?"

"Not...as such? That is, I've heard of it, but I've never read it myself."

"Oh, they are delightful. It's a...personal indulgence." She flipped through the large-print work, just able to make out the text. "This one, for example...a rugged adventurer, secretly a prince, who meets a dangerous ranger on his travels..." With another quiet trill, she sets it aside, starting to build a small pile.

"A secret prince on adventure, eh? Sounds familiar..." He rubbed his chin, before snickering to Jazaka, nudging her in the ribs. "Mm, not really. That sounds horrid; soft feet, weak muscles, no talent with the sword."

"No, no, he's rugged. As much at home in the wild as in the castle. Though...I have read a book the other way. It turned out very differently, though." With another quiet trill, she smiled, glad for the chance to talk on her sole vice without much teasing. "The love interest there was a chambermaid; forbidden love and all that."

"Oh? That must be awkward, romance between servant and lord. Feelings of inadequacy and all that. And beyond that...a maid would often see things a lover ought never see."

Jazaka snorted, hissing quietly towards Trasal. "Oh, you have no sense of romance. It's a wonder you've ever been courted!"

"I'm romantic." He laughed, patting her arm. "I'm simply a tad realistic as well."

"Pft. Realism is overrated. The most unlikely romances are the most interesting! Especially when I-" She cut herself off, almost having said too much. Thinking back, she pictured Ashear, her distant love. Every day, the day they were to reunite came nearer, but speaking on that would raise questions she wasn't eager to answer.

Trasal rested a hand on her shoulder, his tone sympathetic, apparently misreading her. Thankfully, she supposes. "You're a fine woman, Jazaka. You'll find someone."

"...oh, I'm perfectly happy. Especially now that I've found works I can read without holding them an inch from my face!" With a snort, she shrugged his hand off, grinning. "Now you help me search. We'll find works for each of us, and exchange them for our thoughts. Fair?"

"...intriguing." He seemed to grin, looking back to the shelves. "I would never turn away from an offer like that, friend Jazaka. Let us see what comes of this! Perhaps you'll convince me after all."

Cathra lay in the bath, relaxed as she ever could make herself, staring across to Tiana in surprise. "Really? Y'never have?"

Eyes closed, Tiana let herself soak, smiling absently at the chance to relax. "I've never been romantically involved with another, no."

"Oh." She stared at the water for a moment, before looking back again. "But...y'know 'bout...that stuff, aye? I mean...I'd ask Jazaka for advice, but she'd prob'ly just make fun of me again." Turning a bit dark, Cathra grumbled, splashing slightly at the water.

"I do. And why would she make fun of you? It seems the most normal thing in the world to me. Doesn't everyone want a significant other of some sort?"

"...y'had your eye on someone before, then? It's th'other Blondie I bet."

Tiana frowned, though it was hardly noticeable. "...I...have, but..." She shook her head just slightly, careful not to let her hair splash as it spread around her. "We aren't speaking about myself. We're speaking about yourself and Cairon."

"...I mean..." She trailed off, scowling a bit as her tail squirmed against her back. "...I don't even know if me an' Cair' are...I don't know what we are."

Keeping her eyes closed, Tiana tilted her head towards Cathra, sinking a little lower into the water. "Do you feel like you are?"

"I...guess? I dunno! How'm I supposed to know?"

"There is nothing wrong with simply asking."

"...y'mean jus'..." Cathra blushed as she frowned, the mere idea of it terrifying her. "What'd I even ask him?"

Tiana took a deep breath, letting out a slow, relaxed sigh. "I imagine something along the lines of 'are you my lover now'."

Cathra's blush turned an even deeper purple as she sputtered, letting herself sink nearly entirely below the surface.

"Or perhaps 'mate'?" Opening her eyes, Tiana looked towards Cathra's direction. "That is your eventual intention, yes?"

Cathra fell agape, soapy, perfumed water pouring into her mouth. Bursting from the surface, she sputtered at Tiana, hacking and coughing before taking a deep quaff of the green drink — whatever it is — she ordered bathside to join them, trying to scrub her mouth of the taste. Gulping down both glasses set out for the two, she stared back towards Tiana. "What? Y'can't jus'- that's personal!"

"You could be subtler about it, I suppose? But it's important to know he feels the same as you. And who better to discuss such personal matters with? If you are to be partners, that is often required."

"I don't want to- I'm not gonna do that!"

"Don't you want to know?"

"I- Yeah, but I meant...that's not...I don't wanna do that with him, y'sick berk!"

Tiana smirked in uncharacteristic amusement. "Really."

"...well...I..." She shook her head briskly. "What's sex gotta do with all this anyway?"

"I'm only asking." Tiana shrugged, though the ghost of a smile on her lips was still there. "I...don't think I've ever felt quite the way you seem to feel about Cairon. But songs all seem to end in either sex, marriage, or death where love is involved. And you are clearly uninterested in the last two."

Struck quiet, Cathra sat still in the bath, her blush starting to fade. "...so...what you're sayin' is I should be more...forward?"

"Not necessarily forward. Just clear." She shrugged again, once more laying back as she closed her eyes. "When in doubt, short, simple questions are best. You can always add more if needed."

Taking another glass of the green drink, Cathra slid back into the water herself, feeling a bit more comfortable. "...'s not as hard talking about it now..."

"Because it isn't truly embarrassing. You only think it such. It's worth being happy about, Cathra."

Cathra slowly nodded, her smile spreading. "Y'think I should go ask him right now? Or...whenever he gets back? Jus'...go up, tell it like it is? I mean...he ain't doin' it either...jus' go ask 'hey Cairon, y'wanna make out?'"

With furrowed brow, Tiana looked to Cathra, noticing the glass in her hand. "...maybe you ought to ease off the drink before deciding something like that."

"...oh." She stared at the empty glass, snickering.. Y'...y'probably right." Setting it down, she sighed, the bath and the alcohol both making her feel pleasantly warm. Still, her old fears still itched at the back of her mind.

"...Tiana? D'you think I'm...pretty 'nough? I mean...not now...I know I'm not...but could I be? Like..." She fell quiet at the last moment, too uneasy now to finish that sentence as she pointedly looked away.

"What I think doesn't matter."

"...oh." Cathra sank, a little deflated.

"What matters is what Cairon thinks. And I'm certain he thinks highly of your appearance. He often glances your way when you don't notice, after all."

"He does?" She snickers a bit, thinking back to their argument beside the loch. "...But...what if he's jus'...settlin' for me?" She reached again for the glass, filling it before her emotions overcame her.

"Are there things you don't like about your appearance?"

Cathra barked with laughter, near doubling over, careful not to spill. "Are there...oh, y'might say that! I mean...lookit me!"

Tiana again opened her eyes, looking Cathra up and down with a critical eye. "I'm not much a judge of beauty, but I certainly wouldn't call you ugly. Perhaps ask Trasal though; he's more knowledgeable of these things. And much more...popular a person in the domain of romance."

"...y'think? Maybe...maybe I will..." Finishing off her fourth drink, Cathra laughed quietly, flushed now for an entirely different reason. Feeling her courage steeled, she looked across to Tiana. "Do y'think once we're done...you could braid my hair like yours? 's not near as long, but..." She shrugged.

"If you'd like? I could teach you as well if you'd want."

"I...yeah. Thanks."

After Jreen finished his browsing through the glassware, the two moved on to the animal displays. Cairon was amazed, never having seen so many varieties of animals outside a book. Wide-eyed and gleeful, he wandered from beast to beast, Jreen giving him word on the ones he knew the least on where he could and making him set on picking up some books of his own before they left the city. He focused first on the simplest to him, the ones he was most familiar with. Dozens of dogs and cats, of all breeds. Horses and oxen, larger and sturdier than any Broadshire had had. Chicken and cattle, on display as examples for vast herds, tens of thousands of gold worth.

It didn't take long for him to branch beyond; rodents of all sorts and sizes, some the size of a small hound! Tanks of fish of all kinds, some he'd never seen the like of; who could've imagined something like an eel? Insects as big as a mouse, fuzzy and sweet things he could hardly pull himself away from. Lizards big and small, in the full spectrum of colors, letting off all manner of hisses and purrs and squeaks. (Though at the last, he couldn't help but remind Samson that he was the best lizard there was; he knew how jealous Samson could get.)

At the moment, while Jreen's attention was taken by a few examples of enhanced chipmunks, Cairon browsed across the birds, delighted by one particularly colorful fellow.

"Pretty bird! Pretty bird!"

"Yes you are." Grinning, he rubbed the edge of his finger beneath the bird's beak as it trilled.

The stall's shopkeep approached with a smile, a genasi that looked to have a touch of feathers herself. "Interested, sir?"

"Ah..." He truly considered it, but his sense got the better of him; he shook his head, smirking self-effacingly as he scratched at his head. "Nah, nah. I'm...lookin' for a pet for my...girlfriend." He laughed, just slightly reddening at saying the word out loud. "An' I think she might kill me if I got her this. Cute as she is."

"Hm; shame, but I understand. A pet can be a difficult choice. Perhaps a different variety?" Leading Cairon over, he presents another perch with a bird near the same size as the parrot, but its coat even brighter, a prominent crest running across its head. "Perhaps an Elysian thrush. A bit spendier, true, but they're quite well-behaved. And their song serves as quite the sleep aid."

Cairon considers it; he knows she's had trouble sleeping ever since the attack. They both had at times. But she's always sensitive about that too. She might not appreciate a gift like this, whatever his intentions.

"...still not sure. Maybe I'll come back later..."

The merchant nodded respectfully. "Of course. The proper choice of pet is a difficult one, and I wouldn't have it rushed."

"...aye." He smiled, stepping back from the thrush. "Thanks, sir. Appreciate it, jus'...not sure she'd like it. I'll keep thinkin', though." Starting off, he offered him a two-fingered salute of farewell. "Have a good day, eh?"

Sighing, he thrust his hands into his pockets, strolling along the edge of the animal...district? Whatever you'd call it. No sign of Jreen; he must've wandered off. He had to get something for her, though.

Lost in his thoughts, he wandered aimlessly from street to street, paying no attention to his path. Feeling a bit of squirming, he glanced down, feeding Samson a small slaad eye with a half smile. "Simpler for you, isn't it, boy?"

Distracted, he walked into the corner of a display stand, wincing slightly and crying out as it jabbed into his side. Hissing, he rubbed at the bruise he was sure was already forming, glowering at his own inattentiveness. The glint of silver and gold soon distracted him from the ache, though; jewelry sealed away beneath glass set carefully on display.

"...huh." He chuckled at his own luck, as the jeweler approached, an older elven woman with greying hair.

"Looking for something in particular?"

"Ah...yeah. A gift for my...my girlfriend." He grinned; it felt a bit more comfortable the second time. "Didn't think about it before...don't usually have the money for it. Think I might now, though..."

The jeweler grinned, bowing her head. "Ah, new love? I'm happy to help you, then. Do you have a particular piece in mind?"

"...n...nah. Not really. Don't know much about it. But...I want something she'll like, an' that'll look good for her. She's...um...a tougher sort? Tall, with red skin...but awful pretty too."

"Does she wear much already?"

He shook his head, chuckling quietly. "She's not...usually th'type, nah. Doesn't usually wear it at all."

"Hmmm." She looked over the case with Cairon, brow furrowed in thought. "What of a favorite color?"

"...oh! Blue. She likes blue."

"Then perhaps..." She paused at a particular necklace; a slim silver chain with an understated sapphire setting. "This?"

"...oh. Oh, that's...yeah." He slowly smiled. "Can I...can I see it?"

Returning his smile fully, she nodded as she unlocked the case, draping the necklace over her hand.

"...aye. That's perfect. How...how much?"

"90 gold, sir."

He hissed, the quiet voice of his father in his mind at spending so much on...anything. 90 gold was easily half a year's work at the smithy. Still...yeah. This was worth it.

Handing over the gold, he did his best not to laugh much. "Can y'...jewelry usually has fancy boxes an' whatnot, aye? D'you have somethin' like that?"

"Oh, certainly." Locking the case, she stepped around the stand, reaching underneath. "No extra charge." Still smiling, she handed over the ivory-colored box. "I hope she loves it."

"...aye. Me...me too."

"Are you sure you'll be able to carry quite that many on our travels, friend?" Trasal chuckled at the small stack of books Jazaka'd paid for as she eased them into her pack.

"Oh, hush. It's fine." Jazaka's frills twitched; a bit embarrassed, but less so than she would be with anyone else.

"If you say." He half-smirked, thinking absently as he looked across the bazaar. "Hmm. What else should we get? Perhaps supplies...though we've been well enough at foraging so far."

"We still have quite a few rations as well, from what I recall. Little need to use them on this trip, after all." She glanced towards Trasal, grinning. "And we've indulged my interests. What of your own? You haven't yet purchased anything for yourself."

"Well..." Pausing, Trasal thinks. "I don't often indulge myself...but perhaps a new weapon?" He looked at his walking stick, inspecting it closely. Nicked, worn, it showed quite a bit of wear. "It's served well for a good few years. Been through much. Suffered well in its service. Perhaps it's due for retirement, for it to receive its well-earned rest and a new soul to take its place."

Snorting, Jazaka's frills fluttered. With a quick twitch of her head, she stepped to Trasal, taking his arm. "Let's get you a new walking blade, then."

Strolling again through Tradegate's massive market, the two made their way through to the weapon displays, under the watchful eye of the city's guard; much thicker here than what they'd seen so far, it seemed. Jazaka glanced towards the side, catching a familiar scent from nearby.

"Jreen? What are you doing here? I thought you'd been restocking your lab."

Jreen didn't respond, staring intently at the spear gripped in his hands; Jazaka tilted her head, glancing with confusion towards Trasal.

Equally befuddled, Trasal returned her look. Walking up to Jreen, he lightly rested his hand on the gnoll's forearm, voice low. "Jreen? Are you all right?"

With a start, Jreen looked back to the two of them, uneasily grinning. "Ah! Hello. Sorry, Jreen was...distracted."

Jazaka laughed quietly. "We noticed. Is something the matter, Jreen?"

"No...no, not wrong. Very right. This is gnoll spear." He continued to grin, snickering under his breath. "From Abyssal tribe, Jreen thinks. But...no marks of evil one. Is..curious. Jreen wonders if there is another tribe devoted to..." He trailed off, tracing along some of the runes inscribed in the dark-red shaft. Shaking his head sharply, he laughed again, heading off. "Jreen is going to purchase. Glad to see friends. Jreen will talk more later!"

Confused, Jazaka looked towards Trasal. "Do you know what that was all about?"

"Ah...yes." With solemn expression, he nodded, smiling softly. "Jreen has told me some of his heritage, and...well...I suppose it's his story to tell, not mine. I'll ask our friend to tell us tonight."

"Mmph." With a quiet puff of air, Jazaka shrugged. "All right, then. So, swords?"

"Yes! Swords!" With a laugh, he guided her along, newly curious for a fresh cane and a well-honed new blade.

Cleaned, styled, dressed, and warmed by drink, Cathra grinned, following alongside Tiana as they left the inn; no purchases in mind herself, but interested, even excited to see everything that was here. A slight spring in her step, feeling her new braid bouncing against her neck with each stride. "Thanks again, Tiana. Looks nice, doesn't it?"

"Mm." She tilted her head, appraising Cathra. "I never much considered it, but it isn't unappealing. For myself, it simply keeps it still in combat."

"Pft. Don't give me that screed." She laughed, shaking Tiana's shoulder. "If y'didn't wanna look good, you'd just chop it all off."

"...I..." She pursed her lips. "I haven't cut my hair since I was a child. It would be...odd to cut it short after so long."

"That all it is? Y'r not proud of it even a little?"

She blinked, considering the question. Cathra's grin broadened as a slight golden flush rose to Tiana's cheeks. "Ah...I...perhaps? I hadn't...thought about it before...but I suppose I..."

"Nothin' wrong with that! C'mon, jus' say it."

"...I shouldn't succumb to vanity."

Rolling her eyes, Cathra barked out a loud laugh, drawing attention from everyone for a brief moment. "An' why not? C'mon, Tiana, y'can't be such a tight-ass all th'time! 's not good for you! What, you're gonna lose your glow or somethin'?"

"...my what? I do not-" She huffed, stopping in place as she crossed her arms, not even knowing what to say.

It took a few steps before Cathra realized, but once she did, she spun in place with a triumphant smirk. "Y'told me y'had your eye on someone, eh? Who's that? It is Trasal, innit? C'mon, I've told you all kinds of things 'bout me."

"I-" Seeming abashed, Tiana glanced away, muttering quietly; not too quietly for Cathra, though, her brows shooting up.

"Matt? Y'...y'r sweet on Matt?"

Her blush lightened, and she slowly smiled, an almost-unfamiliar expression as it stretched across her face. "He's...he was a brave man, his actions to save the children. And a pillar of law...keeping order amongst the chaos your village was subjected to."

"He's also 'bout twice your age. At least! He'd been sheriff since I was little!"

"I know, but-" With another huff, she fell quiet.

Cathra watched Tiana, never having seen her like this before. With a slightly conspiratorial smile, she lowered her voice, leaning towards her. "He does have kinda a...grizzled hotness, don't he?"

Tiana sputtered, her natural glow actually seeming to get even brighter. "He-" Her smile faltered, but she managed to nod. "I have to admit...that is true."

"Eh...guess there's nothin' wrong with a crush. Or with a thing for older bashers neither. Not Trasal, though? Huh. I mean, he's one o'the most frustratin' folks to talk with I've ever met, but he's pretty hot too. That whole elf-y thing, plus those arms?"

Snorting, Tiana started off again, Cathra falling in beside her once more. Glancing aside to her for a moment, she faltered, hand fidgeting. "...and perhaps...I do...have some pride in my hair..."

"Good for you, Blondie!" She slapped Tiana's back hard, though she barely even missed a step. "I'm gonna corrupt you yet, huh?"

"...or perhaps I may end up purifying you?" Her mouth twitched; for a moment, she started to raise her hand to mirror Cathra's, but she soon thought better of it, arm falling again.

Before Cathra could respond, Tiana glanced ahead, spying a quickly approaching figure.

Cathra looked ahead herself, freezing in place as Cairon ran towards them, skittering to a stop. "'ey, Cath'! Was jus' comin' to see you! Oh, hi Tiana too!"

"Oh...um...hi, Cai'."

"Oh, your hair's different! Looks nice."

"Ah...a-aye. Thanks." She snickered nervously, a bit more sober as her fear surged.

"I...ah...I kinda wanted t'talk t'you. Tiana, can we...d'you mind? Don't wanna interrupt..."

Tiana shook her head, giving Cathra a smile. "I'll meet you ahead?"

"N-...yeah. Sure." Cathra half-smiled back, toe-talons scraping against the cobblestone.

"See y'later, Tiana." After nodding to her, Cairon looked back to Cathra, rubbing his arm. "Ah...did y'-...you two seem t'be...gettin' along better."

"...Blondie's not so bad. When she gets th'stick outta her ass." She laughed, wrapping her arms around herself. "Never thought I'd get along so well with a holy berk."

Cairon laughed, stepping a little closer to her. He took a slow breath, stuffing his hand into his pocket. Looking around, he tugged her onto a nearby side street. "Didn't want to...I know you're not great with attention."

"Ah...thanks?"

He smiled, taking another breath. "Anyway...I, uh...I know you weren't feelin' great from...from Trasal an' Jazaka. An' I know you wanted t'wait 'til tonight t'talk, but...y'know...I thought...I mean, I don't know if you'll like it, but...I wanted to..." Scowling at himself, he pulled the slim ivory box from his pocket, thrusting it out at her. It'd say more than his fumbling anyway.

She took it, befuddled as she opened it. Her eyes went wide as she saw the necklace, holding it up to the light. "I- Cairon, this is...you got this for me? This is...wow."

"...so...you like it?"

Her eyes glistened, her emotions churning up inside her. She burst into a grin, laughing. "Y...y'berk. I...yeah. 's really...it's too nice for me, Cairon."

"Oh, it is not. I think it's perfect for you!"

With another unsure laugh, she carefully slipped it around her neck, fiddling with the clasp for a few moments before finally getting it set. "I...I dunno about that."

"Well...I think y'look nice. An'...it just...makes y'look better."

Cathra blushed in surprise, snickering to herself as she stared down at the gem, watching it glitter in the daylight. "I-...thanks, Cairon. I...I know I'm not...I dunno why you put up with me an' my...my moods an' all..."

"...hey." Cairon stepped up to her, squeezing her hand. "Don't say that. I like you, Cathra. I'm not 'puttin' up' with you. You're...y'have some strong feelings sometimes. An' I like that. I like that y'don't hide who you are."

"...I kind of..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "...nah. Y'...you're...y'berk." She giggled, surprising even herself, as she left a quick kiss on Cairon's knuckles. Feeling her nerves steeled and thinking back on recent advice, she lowered her voice. "Y'...y'wanna...head back to th'inn? 's...pretty nice there."

Cairon was struck a bit speechless for a moment. "Ah...y-yeah. That'd be...yeah, I'd like t'see you. It."

Grinning, Cathra started out, near-dragging him along as he laughed. Waving towards Tiana, she called out as they passed her by, "We're gonna be busy, have fun by yourself Tiana, we'll talk more later, bye!" And without even breaking their stride, the two walked briskly on back to the Golden Hound.

Chapter Text

The twenty-first of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Sitting in the city library of Tradegate, Jreen pulled a new book from the pile, absently gnawing on the thigh-bone of a fhorge as he looked over the title. Dedications of Akar 46: A Primer on the Barbarian Races and Subhumans. A familiar note engraved by some librarian just below the title, one he'd noted on dozens of books so far, that's increasingly worn on him: "Prime Propaganda — Human". More than half the works on gnolls emerging from the Material seemed to be human screeds on their "barbarism", their "laze", their "inhuman attitudes" and "disturbing habits". And more than a few disgusting suppositions on and stereotypes of their sexual habits, misunderstanding hyenas and gnolls both. All for the sake of "informing" adventurers and mercenaries and knights both the need and the means to wipe his people out. He knew how much they were hated, spat on, seen as nothing but fodder to clear for the sake of "civilization", but it was so much worse in the Material realms than he'd ever realized. It wore on him to dig through it, but he had to. If he focused purely on the planar works, he might miss what he was looking for.

Jreen hated to even think it, but he wondered how much of this Cairon might share. Deep down. He'd never treated Jreen poorly, but who knew what he might've picked up from other humans.

He grunted, pushing that out of his mind. Cairon was better than that. He was sure of it. Besides, these were Primes. Provincials. Cairon was different. Planars might've had their own prejudices against gnolls, but not like this.

...He was sure of it.

He was sure.

Taking a slow breath, he set to skimming through the work, looking for key notes. Certain names, certain locations, certain facts. Doing his best to ignore the slurs and misrepresentations. A handful of minutes later, he sighed, setting it aside. It was the worst yet. Not even cultural, just...guides on the...most effective ways to "end the scourge of the tainted". Guide after guide of slaughtering not just his kind, but many. Orcs, goblins, kobolds, tieflings, lizardfolk. And the level of detail, the tone of pure superiority that saturated the writing...he felt nauseous as his thoughts strayed not just to his clan, but to Cathra and Jazaka. Tossing the book into the other pile, he gripped his snout to try and calm himself, pushing air in and out his nose.

Glancing aside, he took another look at the spear he'd claimed from the market, reminding himself why he was here in the first place. The shaft, pure maelephant ivory, was engraved with various runic patterns. For the most part, they were nothing but decoration as far as he could tell. But enwrapping it in a careful line, hidden as mere decoration was the gnollish variation of Abyssal script; a language he'd never miss, lauding the death of the fiend from which the spear was formed.

"This fiend felled in the hunt of our 27th generation, this weapon among the many remains it left our tribe. May we all remember Thyrn, Shyrla, and Ajrol, slayers of the beast."

And that was it. No words of honor to the Demon, as he'd seen on the totem trophies of other clans. Yet none either to Gorellik the Father, as was traditional for the Bloodfeather. Perhaps a tribe devoted to neither? But with how possessive the Demon was, he couldn't imagine any tribe with no allegiance able to maintain that for so many generations.

More, it was difficult to tell how old the spear was. The merchant mentioned the caravan holding it had passed through the Abyss, but who knew how many hands it had passed[ through before then? Who knew if this tribe even still stood? It wasn't likely to predate the Demon; he couldn't imagine even a spear as well-made as this surviving the millennia so untouched. But it still could have since been wiped away by one disaster or another.

He couldn't assume the worst, though. He had three names, slayers of a maelephant. It would be a slim chance to find a reference to them somewhere, but he was patient. If not here, then somewhere else; they were bound to reach city after city on their travels. He wouldn't stop his study, his investigation, until he found something. Because if there was another tribe somewhere not yet taken by the Demon, and if they did still stand, then they might make for allies of the Father. Or at least allies of his tribe.

In either case, it would mean the Bloodfeather were no longer alone.

He knew the restoration of Gorellik would be a long and arduous quest. But he would never step from it. His every kill, his every achievement, devoted to the name of the Father, one more tiny step to bring him back to awareness. Gorellik would return, and he would end the Demon and free his people from their enslavement. And through this quest, they would gain the knowledge and opportunity to dedicate even greater feats, grant him even greater power. And he would not claim his Self from Mirrin, not deserve his Self, until Gorellik regained his own.

The Father would return.

Chapter Text

The twenty-first of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Afternoon passed into evening as the travelers indulged in all Tradegate had to offer. While Cairon and Cathra had retired early for the day, the others continued their pursuits within the city itself. Tiana, after their long journeys, decided to take the chance to walk the streets, see the breadth of this planar metropolis. Jreen, interest piqued by a newfound piece of gnoll craftsmanship discovered in the Market, left for the city library, researching truths that threatened to bring him new hope in his religious pursuits.

Meanwhile, Trasal and Jazaka spoke with the locals, plying their particular talents; while Trasal had long experience in exchanging friendly word with utter strangers, to Jazaka her newfound talents in that area were still something of a novelty, and she was eager to learn from her friend's skills. Watching, participating where instinct led her, and beginning to grow more comfortable with this gift of her patron, surprise or no.

Darkness came before the six all returned to the Golden Hound, Jreen the last of the lot to arrive as he made his way to the restaurant, where Trasal and Jazaka sat with Tiana, discussing their own discoveries with her and the relevance they might hold for the next steps on uncovering the meaning of Broadshire's demise.

Emotionally drained, he settled beside Jazaka without word, looking wearily across towards the two crusaders of law. His hackles raised as he tried to fight back the imagery his reading forced to mind; they were his friends. They were unrelated, they weren't even Prime!

"...Jreen?" Trasal looked to him with concern. "Are you well? You don't seem your normal perked self."

"Jreen is..." He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Jreen has had a confusing day. Found gnoll spear from Abyss. From strange clan. Went to study writings on gnolls. Jreen found information on clan eventually, but Jreen also found..." He grunted, drooping over the tabletop. "Jreen is hungry. Have friends ordered food?"

Jazaka smiled to Jreen, nudging his shoulder. "Not quite yet. We've been talking ourselves. Setting out some possible next steps for our group from what we'd discovered." Looking up towards the stairs, she snorted, nodding towards the stairs as she scented Cairon and Cathra descending from the rooms. "Looks like it's about that time, though." She raised her voice, grinning towards them. "Good evening. We were just discussing food. Hungry?" It was a great temptation to make a joke, but she bit her tongue at thoughts of Cathra's reaction earlier that day.

"Oh, 'course!" Cairon dropped into a chair beside Trasal, leaving Cathra to sit beside Jazaka in the last open chair. She grunted wordlessly, shoulders squeezed in as she shrugged.

"What does hotel have for food anyway?" Jreen lifted his head, swinging it back and forth to try and spy a server. Offering a half-smile, Trasal handed Jreen a slim, well-illustrated booklet.

"A wide variety, it appears, well-divided by the particular diets of any numbers of people. This place certainly seems to live up to the lauding of our former boss, hm?"

"...hunh." Jreen flipped through the booklet, resting on the carnivore section, as Trasal offered a second to the most recent arrivals; his ears perked as he glanced over the offerings. "...oooh. Very good, yes! Jreen didn't expect actual gnoll food."

He skimmed through, mood buoyed at getting some actual comfort from this meal. At the side, Cairon shared the menu with an awkward-looking Cathra, doing her best to seem her usual disinterested, cynical self.

"You're gettin' lizard tonight," she smirked, bumping his shoulder with her own. "Gotta try new things, huh? Wonder if they've got iguana..."

"What? Nah, that's..." He glanced towards Jazaka, clearly listening in with amusement. "...that's kinda offensive, isn't it?"

"Pft. Y'eat mutton, don't you? An' beef, an' pork..."

"I don't travel with a sheep! Or a cow, or a pig!"

"Well...how 'bout dog?" Her smirk sharpened as she peered past Jazaka to Jreen. "That's awfully tasty sometimes."

"Wh...I don't eat- Jreen ain't even a dog!"

Jreen offered a quiet laugh, glancing up from the menu. "Cairon can order gnoll meat if he wishes. Would not advise, though; is stringy. If Cairon wants humanoid, Jreen would recommend fetchling? Naturally smoky. Haven't tried tiefling, though..."

Cairon paled, grumbling, as Cathra looked to Jreen with shock, all humor fallen away, mouth twisting into a sneer. "What? Y'...what? Y'can't eat...those're people!"

"Living are people. Dead are meat." Jreen shrugged, his weariness returning in force at yet again needing to defend himself to his friends. "Beasts become meat. Sentients become meat. All ends in meat. Jreen doesn't see difference."

"Mmph. That's 'cause you're an uncultured savage. Not civilized like me."

A low growl rumbled in Jreen's chest as he glared towards Cathra, surprising her — and the rest of the party — with the strength of his reaction; she'd never seen him react to her needling like that. Shrinking into her shoulders, she fell quiet, grunting. Cairon, concerned, rested a hand on hers; wanting to do more, but knowing how she would react.

Clearing her throat, Jazaka spoke up, hoping to break the mood. "...actually...most meat-eating species aren't very tasty. Their meat is a little tougher I've found, a little more sour. Herbivores tend to be the juiciest, I've found? And I imagine there...just aren't that many herbivorous sentients."

Though Cathra gave Jazaka an odd look, Jreen relaxed, grateful for her efforts. "Jreen agrees...but some carnivores can taste nice."

As the mood warmed, Trasal flagged down a waiter. "Well, I'm certainly hungry now, I think."

Approaching with a grin, the well-dressed gnome nodded to the lot. "Greetings and welcome. What can we provide for you all?"

Each ordered in turn; Trasal a mushroom hash, Tiana veal marsala, Jazaka a cricket salad, Cairon some Olympian mutton, Cathra a roast fhorgling. Jreen, though, kept quiet throughout the orders.

"And you, sir?" The gnome looked expectantly to Jreen, but he merely grunted.

"Jreen is no longer hungry," he said, shoulders tight. "Will just have the fermented lamb's blood."

"Very good." He nodded. "I'll be back shortly with your drinks."

"...Jreen, y'okay?" Cairon frowned as he rubbed Cathra's hand. "Thought you were gonna get...somethin'."

"Mmph. Jreen lost appetite."

Tiana looked across to him with a tiny frown of her own, canting her head. "What is bothering you, Jreen? These writings you mentioned?"

He sighed, letting out a long grumble as he slumped onto his crossed arms. "...yes. Worst example was religious tract from Prime. Advisement on...'interacting with monstrous races'." He looked aside, towards Jazaka and Cathra. "Included lizardfolk, tieflings. Gnolls."

Jazaka kept quiet, with merely a raise of her brows, but Cathra's mouth fell agape as she gripped at the table. "What th'hells? Monstrous?"

"Mmph. Advice was to kill us. Kill lizards. Tieflings needed to be only imprisoned for trial as heretics at least, to burn after judgement. Kind of them, mm?" With a rumble of anger, he snorted, ears drooping back. "Not all Prime books were that bad. But most were close."

"...who wrote that thing?" Cairon glowered. "They'd better be dead."

"That is...awful." Tiana's frown deepened as she shook her head. "The ways of the Prime are so...so...small."

Trasal snorted, clearly biting his tongue at Tiana's words, as Cairon fumbled for his own. "...yeah. Maybe y'r readin' too many books, Jreen. It really said all that?"

"Even gave advice on best way to kill 'monstrous beasts'. End threat of things that 'deviated from the natural ways of the humanoid races'. Apparently best way to behead orcs is to cut from side, where neck is more exposed." Cairon went ashen at the thought of it, as Jreen continued. "Cathra is upset because tieflings called monstrous?" He threw a glare towards Cathra, who cringed from him as a mass of emotions flooded her face. "Jreen is upset because Jreen is so uncultured that Jreen should be riddled with crossbow bolts." He pushed himself straight, arms shaking. "Because gnolls are so savage that their dens should be smoked out because pups hide in holes."

Cathra pulled herself tight, emotions confused and jumbled. The tips of her talons scraped small pale lines across her arm until Cairon rested his hand on hers, thumb running across the ball of her hand as he gave her a quick look of reassurance.

Staring towards Cairon, Jreen's voice broke. "So does Cairon see Jreen as animal too, Jreen wonders?" He turned to Tiana and Trasal. "Do you? Elves and Aasimar are proper people too, seems?"

Though struck silent, Tiana furrowed her brow in consternation. Cairon, though, returned his gaze, squeezing Cathra's hand. "No, Jreen. Do you really think, after these weeks of travellin' with you, an' after all these years of knowin' Cathra, I'd stick around you if I thought you were some kinda unworthy beast?"

Jreen shouted sharply, "I don't know!" His shout echoed in the room, and he shrunk in on himself as chairs all about them slid across the floor. Jazaka placed a hand on his shoulder as he shuddered with feeling, ears tucked back. "...Jreen...didn't know. Jreen was...was worried. Angry. Scared. Jreen knew gnolls were hated, but..."

"...I promise you, Jreen. Y'r a person, an' my friend. I ate a bomb for you, didn't I?"

Jreen quietly chuckled, as did most the rest of the table. His words still felt uneasy in a way Jreen couldn't pinpoint, but it was a start. But before more could be said, the food arrived, the server professional enough to show no sign of having noticed the argument. Plates were arranged, and the assembled group started quietly at their food,  some tension still floating in the air.

As the server departed, Tiana cut into her veal, voice quiet as she cleared her throat. "I must correct you, by the way, Jreen. I'm human as well. Many seem to make that mistake."

The group looked towards Tiana with some surprise, though Trasal kept quiet, attention focused on his hash.

"...Sorry? Jreen thought...Tiana doesn't smell quite human. Close, like Trasal, or Cathra., but different from Cairon."

"I would know if I was aasimar, wouldn't I?" Tiana fell quiet, reflective as she chewed, but shook herself free of her brief concern. "I am human. I'm certain of it."

"...perhaps Jreen's nose is wrong." Dropping the subject seemed the best tack; already far too much drama for Jreen's taste.

Cathra seemed to pull in even tighter, staring at Tiana as she shoved her meat around her plate. Taking a small bite, she barely responded to it, the food chalky to her tongue. Cairon rubbed her forearm; flinching at first, she soon looked back to him with a ghost of a smile.

"Anyway." Tiana looked up from her food, expression once more steadied. "I...do still understand a bit what you mean, Jreen. Dragons are noble creatures. Wise, worthy of honor. Yet many only see them as animals too. I've met many who hate them, or view them as worthy of scorn. Yet I've made it my life quest to protect a dragon from an untimely end."

Jreen gave her a quizzical look. "Jreen thinks is odd life quest; why protect dragon? Though...Jreen supposes Jreen can hardly criticize, Jreen has life quest of reviving god, and..." He shakes his head clear, brushing aside the confused looks from those who hadn't yet heard the tale of Gorellik. "Jreen is getting on tangent. Why is Tiana to protect dragon?"

"Because...it is what I feel I have to do. Dragons give protection. Wisdom. They've been here long before any of us, and their experiences can serve to inform and guide us all. Yet their enemies often wait until their weakest, most defenseless moments to strike them down merely to claim their possessions for their own. Such an act is unjust. My mother defended the honor of dragons before me, and her mother before her; thus I continue our legacy."

"...huh." Jreen nodded, observing Tiana with new insight. "Jreen...unsure if Jreen understands? Is death from battle not more honorable than death of years?"

"No, certainly not. An honorable death is a natural one, one brought about by the inevitable path of time, in the name of Chronepsis. His teachings tell us that our pathway is defined by the march of time, by the needs of fate. That me may maneuver within and even against these paths, but to do so inevitably brings sorrow. And the death of one undeserving of such a fate interrupts that pathway, and diverts the proper flow."

Cairon nodded, intrigued. "Never much thought 'bout dragons dyin' of old age before...in th'stories it's always adventurers out t'stop th'evil dragon an' take its treasure." He fell quiet for a moment. "...never much thought 'bout that either. Guess when y'really think 'bout that, it is kinda...what you were sayin'. Kinda...not right when y'look at it that way."

"...honorable deaths for gnolls are just the opposite. Interesting. Jreen can see Tiana more clearly now?" He grinned. "Jreen disagrees strongly, though."

Jazaka, though, seemed to still hold her confusion. "Do dragons never wrong another, then?"

"Well...I suppose they can. They do have minds of their own, after all."

"Then how do you know a given dragon didn't earn a death in battle, one way or another? What if one seeks it out, if the last thing they want is to wither into nothing? I couldn't imagine being so massive, so powerful, and then just...waiting until it all slipped out of my fingers. Until nothing was left but a worn-down, tired, frail shadow of what I used to be."

"Some...may. And that would be a decision of their own choosing. But that is different than one struck by no fault nor choice of their own." Tiana paused, gathering her words. "Still, I know that by taking up this path, the way of Chronepsis, I am destined to protect one from a dishonorable fate." A bit of unsurety leaked into her expression. "...though my father never mentioned how exactly I am to find them. But one day I hope to visit the great Temple of Chronepsis to learn."

Seeming satisfied, Jazaka smiled to Tiana as she scooped a forkful of salad into her mouth.

"You know, Tiana, I believe this is the most I've ever heard you speak on Chronepsis, even after all our travels." Trasal couldn't help but smirk, his tone playful. "I knew him only as the draconic watcher of time and fate. I'm disappointed we've missed out on so many chances to debate our respective faiths. You know I have much to say on matters of Fate myself, after all."

"...perhaps now you see why I hadn't." With a glint in her eye, Tiana took a bite of veal.

"Anyway..." Cairon looked across to Jreen, leaning on crossed arms. "So do gnolls not us'ly die of old age?"

He shook his head, taking a sip of his lamb's blood. "Most of the time, when gnolls think are near death, will go on Final Hunt. To try and take final offering to bring before...our God, hope for his favor." He grinned, snickering. "Jreen would say most gnolls would rather die as they lived: killing something many times their size."

Laughing with him, Cairon shook his head. "So what d'you think you'd be goin' after when th'time comes?"

"Oh, Jreen isn't sure. Jreen will pick somethin' appropriate when it is Jreen's turn. But will not be Jreen's turn for at least another two decades; still much science to do!"

"...eh? Two...decades?" Cairon screwed up his brow. "How old are y'? Thought you were 'bout my age."

"Eight and a bit. Jreen isn't sure exactly about humans; live to 70 or 80 years, yes?" Utterly matter of fact, Jreen took another drink. "Gnolls are adult at seven; oldest gnoll Jreen ever knew was 36, but most live to be 30 if lucky?"

The blood drained from Cairon's face as he worked through the numbers, and he sunk in his chair. "...then...you'll prob'ly be dead before I'm forty?"

"Probably!"

"...that's not fair."

"Jreen would be happy for more life, but how is it not fair? Humans waste so much time; don't even remember things until three years old. Jreen remembers when he was three weeks old!" He snickered, but Cairon seemed entirely unhelped by the sentiment. Cathra slid a little closer to him, but he hardly seemed to notice.

"It's not fair because...because I'll live at least another twenty years past you."

Jazaka reached for Cairon, patting his hand. "We all die eventually, Cairon. It would be better to celebrate life than to grieve death. Especially before it's arrived."

"Indeed." Tiana gave Cairon a calm, steady gaze. "The path taken is as important as the destination. Even if Jreen and I may disagree on where we ought go."

"And besides, Jreen is sure Cairon can do science alone. Jreen teases, but Cairon is clever assistant, or Jreen would not allow help."

"...even if everythin' goes over my head?"

"Everything went over Jreen's head too. Then Jreen grew taller!" he said as he laughed at his own wit. "Besides, Cairon has another twenty, maybe twenty-five years before Jreen's time! Time to become master smith, forge Jreen a great spear for Final Hunt."

Cairon managed a small smile, though his eyes were still moist. "...can I come with you on it?"

He froze at the question, taking his time to respond. "Jreen would...rather Cairon didn't." He was quiet, unsure. Not wishing to hurt his friend again, but not wanting to grant him a false impression either. "Not meant to come back from it."

Sitting quietly for a moment, Cairon eventually managed a nod. "Aye." His smile broadened, just a bit. "Then I'm just goin' t'make you th'best spear ever instead."

Jreen returned the smile with a broad grin. "Will it explode? Jreen only needs to throw once."

"How much explodin' are we thinkin'?"

"Plane-wide fireballs would be nice, but Jreen can settle for less."

Chortling quietly, Cairon leaned back. "...might be difficult, but I've got twenty-five years to figure it out."

"Mmph." Cathra managed a slight smile, elbowing Cairon in the side. "You'll need at least that long just t'make somethin' worth more'n a shaved copper."

Cairon elbowed her back, snickering back before tossing back the rest of his spiced brandy. "Goin' t'be th'best death in Bloodfeather history, Jreen. Now c'mon." He stood, heading around to Jreen's side as he tugged at his arm. Sighing with feigned annoyance, Jreen stood, and Cairon pulled him into a tight hug, grin as broad as ever.

"...an' if I ever make y'feel like you're not my friend, or like I'm thinkin' less of gnolls, you tell me, aye? Maybe some humans out there are trash, but I'm not 'bout t'be one o'them."

"...Jreen can accept this deal." He returned the hug, lifting Cairon off the ground as he snickered, feeling more at ease. "Maybe more talk later, but thanks for now."

"And of course, the same goes for the both of us, I'm certain, friend." Trasal exchanged a look with Tiana, and she nodded firmly to him, the corner of her lip just barely curved.

"Just gnolls?" Jazaka raised a brow towards Cairon and his expression sank, threatening to take her stoic, straight glance and crack it through with laughter.

"'ey, nah, I didn't mean it like that, Jazaka. Y'know I-"

"Oh, I know, I know. I couldn't help but tease, Cairon; I'm sure you mean it for anyone." She tossed a knowing glance to Cathra, who seemed near to falling back in on herself once more.

Cairon looked towards her, clearing his throat before turning back to the others. "Ah...think we're feelin' a bit...tired? Tired. We should prob'ly head back in...exhaustin' day, y'know?"

Trasal quirked a grin to the both of them, bowing his head. "Of course. We'll speak more tomorrow?"

Cathra seemed near to spitting out a denial, but Cairon tugged her away before she could say anything. "Aye, 'course. Got plans t'talk about, aye? Night, all!"

Once they ascended the stairs, Jreen sighed, settling back into his chair. "Jreen is almost relieved Jreen never had mate." He looked to the others. "Seems so difficult."

Trasal snickered, looking across to Jazaka. "Perhaps you ought share some of your tomes of wisdom with our furry friend, lady Jazaka?"

Shooting back with a glare that threatened to freeze his soul, Jazaka snorted. "Not funny, Trasal."

"Tomes?" Tiana looked to the two with befuddlement. "What does Trasal mean, Jazaka?"

Jazaka sighed, burrowing her head under her arms. "Fine, , fine, I may as well tell everyone. Yes, I read mammal romances!"

Tiana furrowed her brow. "Romances? Love stories?"

She peeked through her arms. "...a bit beyond love, Tiana."

"Beyo-" Tiana blinked, cheeks turning a bit gold. "Oh."

"Ooh." Jreen grinned excitedly. "Does Jazaka have any that would help explain Cairon and humans? Cairon has made Jreen very curious."

Jazaka lifted her head, as across the table Trasal fought his amusement back enough to comfort Tiana. She watched towards Jreen, cloudy eyes squinting at him. "...are you...serious?"

"Of course! Jreen would also appreciate book that doesn't make Jreen want to stab things."

Jazaka bit her tongue at the half-dozen entendres and jokes that leapt to mind, frill fluttering. "...well...I may have a few recommendations. Do you want wooing and courtship rituals, or the actual...mating?"

"Hmm..." Jreen appeared to be legitimately considering the question, to Jazaka's surprise. "Could Jazaka point out examples of both? Jreen would like to know cultural things, but also mating habits? And perhaps Jazaka could maybe say which ones Jazaka thought were accurate?"

"...I...well, I can't speak much to accuracy. I don't know most mammals quite that well. Though they all seem pretty far fetched to me, if I had to say." She gave him a sly grin. "But even if I may have doubts on some of the feats of stamina and strength...and even if some of the described angles seem dubious at best...that's still part of the appeal. Part of what escapist fantasy is all about, hm?"

"Ah...Jreen wouldn't know. Jreen has never read much fiction. But Jreen is curious!" He grinned, eager to gain new insight into the ways of humans and their kin. "Is there anything Jreen can do in return? Jreen feels needy, asking favor with nothing to offer."

"Oh...hm." Jazaka tilted her head. "None come to mind now? But if I think of any, I'll be sure to let you know. For now, we'll say you'll owe me?" She grinned back. "Just be certain to keep them in good condition. I plan on being able to read them again someday."

Cathra sighed as the two stepped into her room, too exhausted to put up a fight. And, she had to admit to herself, glad to be away from the others. She looked towards Cairon as she dropped onto her bed, glad for the spot of luxury that was the most plush mattress she'd ever experienced.

"...y'don't have t'do stuff like that, y'know. I'm no babe." She did her best to glare towards Cairon, but his smile proved he didn't buy it.

"Like you wanted t'hang around there any more."

"Mmph." She pulled herself up fully onto the mattress, curling up. "Jus'...hearin' th'fuzzball talkin' about all that, and...I know I...I wasn't th'best to him either, I know I'm not, but still, it's...it's all jus' words he read in a book. He didn't know any of it. All I ever heard back home was how awful tieflings were, how shit I was 'cause Cassandra screwed a half-demon. An' she'd never let me forget it either. I was trash, she never wanted me, I always made things hard on her...an' Matt an' Mother Elyssa an'...an' even you an' your parents, everyone...y'never had more'n words." Her voice hitched, as feelings buried for a decade and a half all burst from her chest at once. "You all never stopped Cassandra, y'never stopped th'others. Jreen never even felt it, an' he's gonna call me out 'cause...'cause I said..." She trailed off into silence, eventually snorting dismissively, even as she turned her back to Cairon, unable to face him. "He got all torn up 'cause of some words that talked 'bout some dead gnolls, an' he never had kids throwin' rocks at him, or farmers screamin' at him for ruinin' their soddin' crops, or...or his ma tellin' him...tellin' him he...he shoulda died when..."

Her words were choked with wheezy, ugly sobs suddenly overwhelming her. She gripped her stomach, trying to choke out words as she stained the pillow beneath her head. "...why d-did she hate me, C-Cairon? A-am I a monster?"

Acting on pure impulse, Cairon climbed beside Cathra, pressing against her back and pulling her close. She froze for an instant, before melting into him, shaking and sobbing. "Y'r not a monster, Cath. Never." He pulled her tighter, sighing. "...I never knew all that 'bout you. I knew th'others were awful, an'...an' I knew your ma had problems. We all...we all did, but..." He sighed, resting his head against hers. "...Ma an' Da...they always said I wasn't allowed t'be alone 'round your ma. Never had any problems 'bout you, but they were always firm 'bout that. Never knew why."

"I don't want t' be like her, Cai'." She squeezed Cairon's arm, surprised at how much she felt safe with him. How much she felt like for once, she could let everything out. "I know I'm a mess, an' I'm always hurtin' everyone...sometimes I don't even know why I say th'things I say, they just spill out. But...I don't want t' be like her."

Cairon frowned, trying to pull together the right words, wanting to make sure he said what he meant properly. For her sake. "I'm...sorry I never saw everything, Cath. But...if she was as bad as all that, you're nothin' like her."

"Yeah? Maybe I'm worse. Maybe I'm...maybe I'm more like Da', huh? What about Alna? Cassandra never drew blood, 'least. An'...an' Jreen, th'stuff I said t'him-"

"Shh. What y'said...not gonna lie t'you, Cath: it wasn't great." Cathra froze still, but Cairon pressed on. "But if you don't wanna be like Cassandra, don't jus' tear yourself up inside 'bout it. Do what she'd never do. Apologize to him. Show him y'don't think of him that way. I know y'always worry 'bout those sorts of chats, so I'll even be there if y'want." He pressed his forehead to the back of her head, smiling as he held her close. "You'd never want t'hurt someone who didn't deserve it. I know what you said to Jreen, whatever y'did to Alna, y'didn't...it wasn't from hate. Y'r not a cruel person. Sometimes you move faster'n your thoughts, but you're not y'mother. You want t'make things right. An' that's th'best thing you could do: make it right, and do better." Chuckling quietly, Cairon ran his hands along her arms. "You're like a hedgehog. Y'seem all prickly, an' sometimes y'might draw a little blood when y'get scared but...deep down, you're jus' a sweetheart."

Cathra blushed, snorting again, turning his words over his mind. She had to think over what he said; she knew he was right — about Jreen, at least — but thinking about what she ought to say chilled her heart with fear. So instead, she pushed it aside. Until morning, at least.  "Don't even know wha' that is."

"I'll have t'show you at th'market, then. They've got so many creatures there. You'd love it too, I think."

"...that sounds nice. Might make y'r......might make Samson jealous, though." Her tail wound around Cairon's leg, and she couldn't help but smile, drawing comfort from his presence.

"Nah. He'd like th'friends, I bet." He fell quiet for a time, listening to their breathing, before breaking the silence once more. "I wanna tell you too...same as I told Jreen, it's true for you too. if I ever make y'feel like less 'cause of...anythin'...tell me. I never want t'make you feel that way. Sometimes I might say or do somethin' boneheaded, but I promise I'll do my best not t'do it twice."

She had no words in response; she could only lay quiet, feeling his warmth, and gripping her necklace tight in her hand.

Cairon held her, breathing in time with her as minutes ticked on. She felt the first tendrils of sleep flickering at the edges of her thoughts, amazed at how quickly they could turn from friends to...this. Between Cairon's presence and the other berks travelling with them...

Cathra felt safe.

She was near halfway to slumber before Cairon broke the silence again, his quiet words tinged with fear of his own. "...Cath'...are we doin' enough?"

"...huh? What d'you mean?"

"I mean...I dunno. I feel like...I mean, you know I've wanted t'go out an' adventure near all my life. An'...an' this's been that for sure. Been near a month, and I've seen more'n I've seen my whole life before. But...I was thinkin' when I was writin' tha' letter...sometimes I feel like we're just...tagalongs. It was our home, Cathra. An'...I dunno. It hurts to think about, but...'s not right to do nothin' but the fun parts. I mean...all that mess in Plague-Mort..."

"...mm. Aye, aye." She chuckled, head pressing into her pillows as she ran her fingers across Cairon's hand. "Still get nightmares of Jazaka chewin' us out sometimes. But...I dunno. I...yeah, sometimes. Maybe we're just...causin' trouble with all this. Maybe we're jus'-"

"Hey. No, that's not what I meant. We're not doin' that again, eh?" Cairon chuckled into her shoulder. "I jus' think...we ought t'do more. Not so much jus' gettin'...pulled along on missions. Or staying back behind while they do all the work. I mean...c'mon. You're sneaky. You're clever. Good with a blade. That's useful. Y'can do plenty, lots more than you think. I mean, gods, you all but ran your own criminal empire back home, huh?"

Scoffing, Cathra grumbled, her tail gripping him tighter. "Not hardly. Sold bored farmers some drugs now and then, doesn't quite make me a crime boss."

"Still. C'mon, Cath'. Where's all that braggin' an' shoutin'?"

"Mmph." She glanced back over her shoulder, nudging his leg with her heel "How 'bout you? You're...not bad either, I guess."

Cairon chuckled, pressing against her. "High praise."

"...fine, fine. You're...you're good at all that...smithin' stuff. An'...y'know. All that...readin' you do. You're smarter'n folks think. An'...the animals. You're good with 'em." She snickered again, intertwining her fingers with his. "You've always been good with 'em. Always...fun watchin' you takin' care o' one. Even that lizard you're always cartin' around. Doesn't matter what it is, seems like you'd care 'bout most anythin'."

"That why you hid an octopus in my pants?"

"That w-...mmph. I was mad! An'...an' I just wanted t'...show you up a little. 'sides...don't regret it." She looked up, glancing about the room. "Where is Samson, anyways? Don't gotta worry 'bout him crawlin' over me, do I?"

"Nah, nah...got him trained t'keep outta th'way at night. He's a good kid. Wouldn't bug his mom while she's sleepin'."

"Agh, stop it with that rot! I am-" She huffed, elbowing his side as he laughed. "We're not havin' that argument again."

"Heh. Well...anyways...what do you think?"

Taking a deep breath, thumb running along his knuckles, she eventually nodded. "...aye. Let's...step out a little more. Mother Elyssa deserves it. An'...so do your parents."

"Aye." He sighed, kissing her shoulder. "We'll find 'em, Cathra. An' no one else'll get hurt by 'em."

With a quiet nod, she squeezed his hand, letting herself fall to sleep in his arms. "We will."

Chapter Text

The seventeenth of Reaping, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

14967:5:0:3:18:13.9802/S-Secundus 4->Tertian 7/Quinton 17 Request for data retrieval in re: recent communications with representatives of divine entity Pholtus; all records relating to treaty 45093 including all past modifications and negotiations.

14967:5:0:3:18:13.9857/S-Secundus 4->Tertian 8->Tertian 9/Quinton 24 Begin preparations to draft revision 9 of treaty 45093 pending approval by second part-

14967:5:0:3:18:13.9858/R-IWS NOTICE: INFINITY WEB CONNECTION FAILURE DETECTED, PRIMUS 1

14967:5:0:3:18:13.9976/R-Secundus 1->Secundus All What has happened? The One and The Prime is silent.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0013/R-Secundus 2->Secundus All Communication lost, but no sign of distress.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0237/S-Secundus 4->Secundus All Confirming the situation.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0256/S-Secundus 4->IWS Confirm connection failure in Node 1, immediate response

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0258/R-IWS ERROR CONFIRMED: NODE 1 DISCONNECTED FROM INFINITY WEB

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0643/S-Secundus 4->Secundus All Identifying as nearest Secundi to Q4R16S64. As is and shall always be, proceeding to Tower to enact promotion protocol.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0646/R-IWS CONNECTION RESTORED, NODE 1

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0656/R-Secundus 1->Secundus All A disruption in the Infinity Web? Some manner of malfunction?

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0659/S-Secundus 4->Secundus All Unknown, investigating. Requesting all other Secundi await further response before actions.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0701/S-Secundus 4->IWS Confirm connection, node 1. Analysis, Infinity Web, Q4R16S64.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0702/S-Secundus 4->Tertian 8->Tertian 9/Quinton 21 Retrieve all logs for Q4R16S64 Pool Chamber starting TC14967:5:0:3:18:13.9858.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0703/R-IWS CONNECTION CONFIRMED: NODE 1

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0704/R-Secundus 1->Secundus All I await your word.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0707/R-Secundus 3->Secundus All Preparing immediate dispatch of Septon 18 if thaumaturgical channel reconfiguration proves necessary; holding action until your request.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0708/R-Secundus 2->Secundus All May the One and the Prime live.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0718/R-Tertian 9->Tertian 8 Log retrieval request countermanded, all logs of Q4R16S64 in requested timecodes sealed.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0720/R-IWS ANALYSIS HALTED

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0722/S-Secundus 4->Tertian 8->Tertian 9 Identify source of countermand.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0741/R-Tertian 8 Source of order reported by Tertian 9 as unknown entity “Primus 1”. Improper appellation for countermand order; relay broken due to potential rogue status. 

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0745/S-Secundus 4->Tertian 8/Septon 28 Open investigation into status Tertian 9, potential rogue. Temporary caste identification protocol override granted.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0749/S-Secundus 4->Tertian 7/Hexton 28 Prepare for action at Q4R16S64 resulting from potential rogue status of Tertian 9. Temporary caste identification protocol override granted.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0756/R-Primus 1 You overreach yourself, Secundus 4. Cease all investigations and inquiries at my Tower. Prepare for March protocol.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0947/S-Secundus 4->Primus 1 Request for clarification; March protocol not to occur until TC14968:0:0:0:0.0000. As is and always shall be.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0997/R-Primus 1 Proper functioning requires obedience. Lack of obedience suggestive of rogue status. Shall investigation be opened into you, Secundus 4?

14967:5:0:3:18:14.0999/R-Primus 1 Prepare for March protocol effective immediately. Seal Regulus and close all diplomatic channels pending further orders. Stand down the Army of the Blood War until Stage 15.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.1354/S-Secundus 4->Tertian 8/Septon 28 Countermand investigation order. Caste identification protocol override rescinded.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.1358/S-Secundus 4->Tertian 7 Recall all diplomatic agents. All negotiations with currently-present diplomatic officials to be halted. All requests for elaboration to be rejected.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.1362/S-Secundus 4->Secundus All Begin March Protocol on order of Primus 1. Order attached. All further inquiries ordered ended, all logs at Q4R16S64 sealed. March to begin by conclusion of current secondary subcycle.

14967:5:0:3:18:14.1476/S-Secundus 4->Secundus All Glory to the One and the Prime.

Chapter Text

The twenty-second of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Crossing the streets, Tiana gazed ahead half-distracted at the Celestial Embassy, drawn into her thoughts as she prepared for the pending conversation. With little experience conversing with true celestials, the exemplars of Law and Good, she couldn't claim not to be intimidated by the concept; dealings with mortals, she could always trust in her understanding of the precepts of Chronepsis to guide her. But exemplars? Beyond the cycle of life and death, yet so influential in same; she still had little sense as to how they were to be approached. How they influenced the paths of fate, and were influenced in kind. His guidance was ever-present, but her sense of it was still somewhat…untrained, even after the last two years of journeys alongside Trasal.

Yet there was no alternative. Whatever her own feelings were, they were irrelevant towards the goal ahead. She would find her way. She was suited for this, she knew the ways of the Mount. She was capable. She-

"Tiana?" Trasal gave her a curious glance, mouth quirked. "Shall we enter? We've been standing here near a minute."

"…ah. Yes." She nodded firmly, looking to the gilt-etched doors. Gripping the handle, knowing that she was able. She was-

Stepping to her side, Trasal took the handle above her hand, tugging it open. Tiana looked askance to him, clearing her throat with a slight golden flush before stepping within the entry hall.

Cool air drifted within, with the slightest salty tang. It immediately her back to her childhood on her father's farm; something she hadn't realized she missed until now, the brisk air of the Mount. Still, at least this momentary reverie she managed to pull herself out of, offering a nod to the guardians standing across from the entrance and flanking the only passage further in; plate-armored figures with glowing-silver eyes, stoic as statues. Stepping ahead of Trasal, Tiana walked to them both. Though she couldn't make out the line of their gaze, she was certain that their eyes were even now burrowing into her, inspecting her. She clenched her hands tight at her sides as she focused on speaking clearly, on keeping her nerves and worries far away. She must represent her patron properly; duty demands it.

"Greetings. As a knight of Chronepsis and a daughter of Mercuria, I would like to seek audience with a representative of the court of Bahamut."

The guards watched, still and without word, presumably communing with others within as they inspected her aura. She stood patient, mediating her breathing, trimmed nails still pressing into her palms. Steady in, and steady out. A seeming eternity of seconds ticked by before finally, the door pulled itself open. The left of the two spoke, their voice deep and melodious; "Follow the Lantern within. They will guide you both."

With a brisk nod, Tiana looked back to Trasal, gesturing him along. Passing the threshold, she could sense a dull tingle in the air, the abjurations woven throughout the building so thick as to be nearly audible; clearly, safety and privacy were key within this outpost of the Mount. And hovering in the middle of the hallway before them both, a violet orb drifted side to side, their light shimmering along their surface; the lowest rank of the archons of the Mount, the Lantern, the form of the newest souls inducted into their ranks. Tiana had seen many across the skies of Mercuria, but even they rarely deigned to interact with native mortals, their efforts most often devoted to shepherding newly-manifest petitoners along their paths.

They called to them both in a voice reminiscent of wind chimes on a breezy night, "Please, follow me honored guests!" Bobbing lightly, they drifted along the marble halls, careful not to speed too fast for the two to keep up.

Though Tiana couldn't help but be awed by their mere presence, Trasal seemed more amused, eyes twinkling as he smirked to Tiana. She could tell he was about to make some comment or another, so before he could even open his mouth, Tiana jabbed his side with her elbow. As he stumbled, the Lantern paused, their tone concerned. "Is all well? Are you hurt?"

"No, no, my shiny friend." Trasal chuckled, rolling his eyes at Tiana. "No, I simply tripped. Nothing to worry on here."

"Oh! Well, if you're certain!" In good cheer, they continued onward, veering down a side hall and stopping before a grand platinum curtain, glimmering and glittering in the light. "Welcome to the chambers of the representatives of the court of Bahamut!"

"Thank you, Archon." Tiana bowed her head. "Your service is appreciated; may your ascent be without trouble." Brushing the curtain aside, she stepped ahead; Trasal tipped his own head as he followed behind, chuckling quietly under his breath.

Only a few steps in, Tiana was met by a beaming draconian, her copper scales well-burnished, garbed in a well-tailored silk blouse and trousers. She clasped Tiana's hand between her own. "Welcome, knight of Chronepsis. In the name of the Platinum Lord, I welcome you and your companion to his sanctuary. May I have your names?"

Offering her own smile, Tiana gripped her hand back, awed — almost overwhelmed, even — by the sense of purity pouring off this woman; a priest of the Platinum Lord, and a quite significant one. To be met by the highest of His representatives here is an honor she didn't expect, she thought to herself as she tamped those nerves into an even tighter ball. "I am Tiana Siderel, blessed to serve in the name of Chronepsis the Silent. And he is Trasal Regima, an Inquisitor of the Kindly Ones of Olympus; my partner in seeking out threats to Order across the Outlands."

"Charmed, madam." Offering his broadest smile, Trasal stepped forward to take her hand, bowing his forehead to her knuckles.

She chuckled, smiling in return. "Quite the charmer himself, your partner, hm?"

"Among other things," she replied flatly. As Trasal stood again, Tiana let the slightest crack of a smile show through. "And your own name?"

"Tylandrel."

"Mm. Sister Tylandrel, perhaps you can help us. May we sit?"

"Of course. Please." Stepping back, she led them to a nearby chamber, lowering herself into one of four well-carved walnut chairs arrayed around a matching table. Sitting across from her, Tiana clasped her hands in her lap, Trasal taking up position at her side. With a motion from Tylandrel to the door, it eased itself closed, latching and locking with barely a sound.

"This may be a...a sensitive topic, Sister Tylandrel. We are seeking intelligence on recent baatezu movements. We have been led to understand that…certain parties of Celestia keep watch on such things. Subversively."

Trasal nodded, leaning on the table, his mien turning serious. "Clearly, such matters are not to be discussed lightly, especially with new arrivals such as ourselves. But you have inspected us, and not found us wanting."

"I certainly have, Sir Regima." She nodded, reclining. "But I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. Such actions would clearly contravene our neutrality in the Blood War."

Tiana was taken by surprise, eyes widening. "We know that-"

Gripping her hand, Trasal shook his head subtly, looking back to their host. "Of course not; our apologies. But…perhaps you would have contacts who would have access to such information."

"Perhaps. Though I would have to speak with others within the hierarchy of the Platinum Lord. Clearly, an ambassador such as myself being involved in such things would be unwise, given the sensitivity of relations between powers as it stands."

"Oh, assuredly." Trasal smiled, wading well through the double-talk, even as Tiana grew ever more frustrated.

She looked to Tylandrel, brow furrowed so tightly she could feel the beginnings of a headache. "Then you are saying you know nothing about them yourself?"

"It is as I said, Lady Siderel."

"…one moment, Sister." Trasal looked to Tiana, as the two exchanged a quick series of signs.

She cannot admit openly. To do so would be to violate agreements.

Agreements? She is lying!

She is merely being cautious. She has said nothing that is not true.

Lies of omission are still lies!

I would normally agree, but matters of diplomacy are…difficult enough. We can speak on this later, but for now, trust. As the Platinum Lord trusts her.

With a quiet huff, Tiana took a deep breath, calming herself with trained mental exercises while ignoring that pellet sitting below her thoughts, as Tylandrel looked to them both with utter patience. This…wordplay tested her own more than anything she could remember in recent history. But needs must.

"…Sister. We…are of need of such knowledge. A town was struck Chaosside by a squadron of baatezu, near the Dwarven Mountain. Hundreds of lives were lost, and we are…seeking to discover why. Perhaps…you could…pass the request along to those that…may have such intelligence. I would ask this favor in the name of the Silent."

Taken up short for a moment, Tylandrel fell quiet, eyes wide. "A mortal town?"

"That is correct, Sister."

"I…I can…pass the request along, Lady Siderel. But…I would not expect much." She snorted, with a brisk shake of her head. "If there…was news of a squadron of baatezu so far from the battlegrounds of the Blood War, it surely would have crossed my desk at some point. Purely for the sake of keeping me informed in future negotiations, of course. I…am sorry, Lady, but we cannot help you."

Trasal sucked air through his teeth, grimacing. "Assuredly, though, the Platinum Lord could…dispatch agents to investigate, To obtain intelligence on this."

"…perhaps. But…" Tylandrel took a deep breath, leaning against the edge of the table. "Any such agents would be involved in…any number of missions. I can request it, but such a request is likely to be denied. It would put lives at risk that are responsible for defending the well-being of millions. Billions, even. Intelligence key for maneuvers not just within the Lower Planes, but the Material Planes as well. I understand that to the Watcher, all deaths not of their time are a tragedy. And…I am certain that my Lord would regret not being able to provide aid. But…this matter is within your own Lord's purview, not my own."

"…not within His purview?" Tiana's eyes widened as she pushed herself to her feet. "This is a matter of justice, is it not?"

"Certainly so, Lady Siderel. And yet, while this is a horrid injustice, would it not be a greater one to sacrifice his agents, and potentially risk countless lives, for the sake of this?"

"I…" Arms shaking, Tiana clenched her teeth so tightly, she could feel one chip. "I…cannot make that decision."

"And honestly, nor can I. Which is why I will relay your request. I simply ask that you…temper your expectations."

Sighing, Trasal stood with Tiana, patting her hand before looking to Tylandrel. "We will be staying at the Golden Hound at least through tonight."

"I will have a response for you both within the next two hours…whatever that response may be."

Tiana forced herself to nod, choking out words. "…thank you…Sister. Chronepsis watch over you."

"And may the North Wind always trace your path."

Turning from the table, Tiana stepped briskly out the chamber, out the embassy, waiting not for their guide. Trasal followed behind, watching her in concern; he'd never seen such emotion from her, and frankly, it was somewhat disturbing. He caught up with her just outside the building, reaching for her shoulder only to have it shrugged off near immediately.

"...Tiana? Are-"

She spun on Trasal with a glare, mouth sealed into a thin line, bringing Trasal short. Raising his hands, he took a step back, laughing quietly.

"I'm on your side, Tiana, remember? I know you're frustrated-"

"Frustrated? That doesn't begin to-" Closing her eyes, she took a long breath through her nose, before turning and walking once more.

"We can speak on this, Tiana." Speeding his pace, he walked at her side, frowning. "I hardly think this would violate your oath."

"How can you be so certain when I'm nowhere near such? She's...I feel that she may be right, and I...I hate that, Trasal." Her eyes began to water from the sheer frustration of it all, the carefully shaped pellet erupting into a cloud of anxiety. "Allowing a lesser injustice for the sake of averting a greater? That is-"

"Sometimes necessary. You know..." He trailed off, rubbing at his forehead; given how she usually held herself, Trasal often forgot that Tiana's maturity was born from devotion, not age. As young as she was, perhaps this truly was her first time faced with this? "...sometimes...sometimes, difficult decisions must be made, Tiana."

Stopping abruptly, she gripped the bridge of her nose, tears streaking down her face, grunting as she tried to marshal her thoughts back under control. Trasal waited by her side for her to resume, but she simply looked up towards him. "...meet back with the others, and...tell them of what happened. I need to...I need to find...sparring grounds, or something of the sort."

"...all right. Good luck; we can speak more tonight if you need it."

"Mmph." Turning on her heel without even a look back, she split off to walk the city, hoping to find somewhere she could slash out her frustrations.

Stepping from the bar, Cairon walked back to his companions, carrying a tea tray for the morning's breakfast. Lowering it carefully, he settled next to Cathra, grinning despite himself as he had been so often these last days. She couldn't help but roll her eyes, but he could spy that hint of her own smile; an expression more and more obvious to him every day. He never used to pay so much attention to the little details that showed themselves every so often. It amazed him how unaware he was of the subtleties in her feelings. He used to joke how she only had two modes: angry and snarky. But now, every time that memory came to mind now, he cringed.

"...what's got you so weird?" Cathra gave him a narrowed look while he poured tea for the table, crossing her arms and twitching her brow.

"Nothin'. Just thinkin' is all." He chuckled under his breath, shrugging it off and focusing on the now.

"Hmph. Bad idea for you, Cai'. Not cut out for it."

Jazaka snickered, thanking Cairon with a nod as she took her own cup. "You seem to have had a better night, Cathra."

"...eh." She shrugged, taking a long sip as she clenched her shoulders. "Good 'nough, I guess."

Prodding her in the ribs, Cairon jerked his head towards Jreen as he descended the stairs to join them. Cathra blanched, pulling even tighter on herself. Cairon rubbed her back, smiling with pure understanding, and her tension seemed to melt, if only somewhat. She grunted, standing and crossing to meet Jreen, taking him aside to speak quietly.

"Eh? What does Cathra want?" Jreen looked to her with confusion, even a slight glimmer of suspicion.

"...jus'...I wanted to say...I'm sorry, Jreen. I...I don't treat you proper. Especially not last night." His eyes widened in surprise, tempting Cathra to look away, but she forced herself to keep eye contact as she pressed on, gripping her own forearm so tightly she wondered if she might leave a bruise. "You're not uncivilized. Jus'...jus' different, I guess. An'...folks've said enough of that rot to me, I should know better'n to throw it at you too. I'm...I jus'...I'll try to do better, aye?"

Breaking into a broad grin, Jreen pulled her into a sudden bear hug, lifting her off the ground as he nuzzled her face. She sputtered, squirming and shoving against him, as he said, "Jreen forgives Cathra! Was rough night. If Cathra promises, good enough for Jreen!"

"All right, all right, now can y'put me down, y'fuzzball?"

"Yes!" Setting her back on the ground, Jreen gave out a wheezy snicker. Brushing the wrinkles (and fur) off her blouse, she glared up at him; almost playfully this time, though, as she quietly snorted. 

"C'mon, let's get some breakfast." With a grumble, she made her way back towards Cairon, blushing deep as she saw he and Jazaka had been staring and grinning through the whole thing. Sliding back beside him without a word, her mouth twitched slightly as Cairon took her hand, the mere contact enough to help soothe her.

As Jreen sat across from them, Cairon looked back towards Jazaka, deciding not to say another word about the two of them for Cathra's sake. "So...Boss oughta be back with Trasal soon, aye? They tell you how long they'd be, Jaz'?"

"Not specifically, but I can't imagine it will be long, for good or for ill. Either they receive a quick yes...or a quick no." She shrugged, sipping at her own tea.

"Jreen hopes- ah, there is Trasal now!" He grinned broadly, sitting up a bit straighter. "...Tiana is not with Trasal, though? Perhaps something happened?"

Twisting about, Cairon waved his free hand to their friend, forehead furrowed. "'ey, Trasal! C'mon an' sit; food'll be comin' soon. Ordered you some fruit bread, thought you'd like that. Where's Boss?"

"Ah! Thank you, my friend." Smiling, he took a seat of his own, pouring himself a cup with just a bit of cream. "And Tiana...I'm afraid our meeting didn't go quite as well as it could. She had some...frustrations to release."

"...eh? Blondie did?" Cathra scoffed. "Went that bad, huh? Tight-ass angels, shoulda known they wouldn't be any help."

"Mm. It was complicated. But disappointing too, yes. Perhaps this wasn't the proper destination after all."

"No." Jazaka looks sharply towards Trasal. "A city such as this, as large as this, there must be something. Just because our first outreach failed doesn't mean we ought give up now. Our other leads are weeks away at best, and I refuse to take that route before we've exhausted all options here."

"...gotta agree with her." Cathra was surprisingly quiet in tone, tracing a talon in lazy arcs across the surface of the table, following the whorls of the grain. "Th' more time we take, th' colder th' trail's gonna be. Used t'hear Matt say that if a fellow got away for a month, they probably got away for good." At Cairon's glance, her cheeks burned as she let out a dismissive snort. "What, y'think I never talked t'him while he had me locked up?"

Trasal smirked, leaning back, arms wrapped around his chest. "Yes, yes...you are right, of course, Lady Jazaka. I may have been more frustrated myself than I expected."

"Jreen could perhaps return to the library, investigate other topics. Jreen's efforts were focused on gnolls before, but Jreen does remember seeing works on devils. Could give insight?"

Tapping gently against his cup, Cairon hesitantly looked to the rest of the group. "I...uh...I had an idea m'self. Dunno if it's any good...might not be, but..." He cleared his throat, resetting himself before he stumbled over every word he had. "So y'know that fellow what's supposed to be in charge of the city? The Master Trader? He's supposed t'know everything about anything that happens in the city, aye? Well...even if it is a stone's toss from Celestia, there's gotta be baatezu-knowledgeable folks what trade here now and then, eh? Maybe not the sods themselves, but someone who might know something? So...what if we go to him, try'n...offer a trade or some sort?"

Trasal grinned to Cairon, cup clacking against his plate. "That...is an excellent idea, friend, and one I feel shamed for not having thought of myself in a city suck as this. Information is one of the most valuable currencies on the Planes, after all, and any merchant lord worth their coin ought to either traffick in it or know who might. But if this Master Trader rules the city, he may be difficult to find."

"Ah...I may've already...looked int' that?" With an awkward chuckle, he shrugged. "Asked at the bar...and he's been doin' work directin' things at th'Celestia-side gate. Somethin' to do with...think they said modrons? You know what that means, Trasal?"

"Ah...yes, but I know the context as little as you. Why would..." He frowned, shaking his head before letting his mind get caught up too much in the question. "No matter. Shall we go?"

"Mm...Jreen will return to library instead. Better two plans than one, yes? And friends will return this evening? Perhaps Tiana will feel better by then as well!"

"Perhaps, perhaps." Trasal smirked, leaning on his walking stick as he stood. "Then we shall see you tonight, my friend. Good luck in your adventures across the written word."

Downing the last of her tea, Jazaka stood in turn, jerking her head sharply as she fell in beside Trasal. "And which of us will be negotiating with this merchant lord, hm?"

"'ey, maybe I will. I'm a businesswoman too, aft' all." Cathra looked down her nose at Trasal, as Cairon chuckled, shaking his head.

"Not sure it counts if your business gets y'thrown behind bars."

"Pft. All businessfolk break the law. Just some berks have enough jink t'buy off th'guards."

"Ah...not sure I'd say quite that, my friend. But perhaps he will appreciate speaking with a peer anyway."

Jazaka's tail scraped back and forth against the floor as she looked across her companions. "And the sooner we meet with him, the sooner we'll find out. So shall we?"

Finding the Master Trader indeed turned out to be no trouble at all. Standing atop the Celestia-ward entryway, he peered out over and past the ditchwork to the distant horizon; a well-built bariaur clad in violet silks, long white mane stretching to his back, his gilt horns glimmering in the daylight. As soon as they spotted his figure, Trasal made their way to the stair up the wall, and after a brief chat with the guard, audience was granted. Ascending to the top of the wall, Trasal was near to introducing himself, before his attention was drawn along the Trader's sight line, the sparks of a massive aura popping along the edges of his vision.  The rest soon followed suit, all drawn by the rising cloud of dust in the distance, or feeling the low rumble underfoot that seemed to only be growing in strength.

Jazaka gripped the edge of the battlement. "What is...is this a groundquake?"

"Not quite, my guest." His gaze not breaking from the horizon, the Master Trader spoke, his voice a deep bass with but the slightest scratch of age, piercing eyes seeming as though they might pick out individual members from the distant mass. "That is an army."

"...by the Three..." Trasal darted to the edge alongside Jazaka, eyes so wide it seemed they might spill from their sockets. "Modrons? On the- no, impossible. They aren't due for another-"

"187 years. And yet sixty-nine days ago, on the 17th of Reaping, they proceeded from Automata's Gate just as they had on every scheduled March for millennia, with neither word nor warning."

Agape, Trasal could only stare, though Cathra was having none of it, a half-step from snarling as she took in the coming horde. "An' what's all this rot, then? What's this about 'modrons', and what's th'big deal about them marching? They on the-" She shared a quick look with Cairon, as both felt a sudden wash of fear; was it happening again? Was this what happened before?

Broken from the spell, Trasal looked to Cathra for a mere instant before turning his sight back to the distance. "Exemplars. Beings of pure Law, of the plane of Mechanus. Every Great Cycle, every 289 years, they proceed on a march around the entirety of the Great Ring, journeying from plane to plane. The last was in the 25th year of Hashkar, so they are...quite early. Which is...ominous, to say the least."

Cathra and Cairon were eased, though Jazaka less so. "Should we worry?" She watched toward the horizon in concern, feeling the increasing vibrations more and more, knowing now that it must be thousands upon thousands of individuals moving in perfect lockstep. "Exemplars aren't the easiest sorts to interact with on a good day."

"That remains to be seen." The Master Trader narrowed his eyes, before stepping back from the wall. "We have a contract with the One and the Prime to ensure the safety of the city in exchange for quick passage into Bytopia. But word from Heart's Faith — Celestia's port off-plane," he clarified for the group," suggests their interpretation of such contracts is, for the moment...skewed. The city would have been destroyed on their exit from Celestia if not for a passing adventurer aiding in arranging a new deal at the last moment. Thus the ditch, should worse come to worst. If need be, we shall simply divert them instead. A small expense in exchange for the safety of the people of my city." Smiling to the four, he seemed utterly at ease, the expression of an experienced leader. Or perhaps simply a merchant well-practiced at damping the concerns of upset customers. "But at their slow pace, they are still hours hence even now. And the four of you have a deal to propose, no?"

Trasal pulled himself from the mass at the horizon, forcing himself to offer a smile of his own. "Yes, of course. I am-"

"Sir Trasal Regima, of course. Charmed. And to each of you all; Ms. Jazaka, Ms. Mielhof, Mr. Marast."

Caught off guard, Trasal's forced smile faded to a mild smirk. "I see you keep yourself well informed, Sir...?"

"Simply the Master Trader will do. All other names of mine were sold long ago."

"...eh? What d'you mean?" Cathra frowned at the bariaur, tail swaying low behind her. "How d'you sell a name?"

"A long and boring story, Ms. Mielhof. And hardly relevant to your request, so I will spare you the details. Suffice it to say that the right items can often be sold to the right people for the right price, which I believe is precisely why you all are here.. Though in your case, that item would be information, yes? Something..." He inspected the four, eyes piercing as they pass over each in turn. "...fiendish in nature?"

"Ah...yes." Jazaka flicked her head, snorting, though she was as unnerved as she was amused. "That is certainly the case. Eyes and ears about the city? Or are you simply reading our thoughts?"

"Oh, neither. I simply have a sense for such things. The whorls of commerce about a person. But please, tell me more of what you seek."

"Broadshire." Cairon is the first to speak, his face oddly expressionless. "Town...some ways away. Not a place most anyone would care about, I guess, but...it was our home. And one day, 'bout a month ago, it was destroyed by some devils. No warning, no offense, no nothin'. So...we're lookin' to figure out why." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he leaned against the battlements, his mind's eye staring into the depths of his thoughts. "So far we've just had th'runaround from everyone we've tried talkin' to. Seems everyone's in agreement that it's weird, that it makes no sense. But no one's got a thing to say 'bout it besides." He looked over to the Master Trader, eyes with just enough of a sheen to catch the light. "You seem t'know everything about...well...everything here, eh? Supposed to hear all about all the wheelin' an' dealin' that goes on in this city? Then...we want your help. I dunno what you'll want in trade, but...I can do honest work. Willing to...to trade with that. Or if y'need...a bowman. Or a guard. Whatever."

Cathra chewed on her lip, staring at Cairon. Even after their conversation, this still wasn't easy for her. After a long silence, she let out a deep exhale, scratching at her hand, talons tracing between her scales. "Or if...I mean, you're a businessfellow. A right basher, aye? If y'need somethin'...nicked, or y'need someone to pick up the dark on a berk...anythin'. We just gotta know, eh? An'...an' it needs to be from us." She looked to Trasal and Jazaka with a hint of a smile. "Got some right bashers with us too, but...it was our home."

A bit surprised, but not too much so, Jazaka grinned to them both, and Trasal chuckled in approval, hands resting on his cane. The Trader, meanwhile, appraised across them both as he considered their offer, weighing it in his mind.

"What you ask for...I could provide. I have a name in mind for you. But I am not sure if what you offer is of the proper...value."

Cairon deflated before his eyes, rubbing at his forehead. "Should've figured that...I mean...I know we don't have much compared to all these folk here."

"Not all trade is a question of money, Mr. Marast. I am simply saying that your offer is not...appropriate for what you wish to gain. Instead, I would propose...a memorium."

"...'scuse me?" Cathra cocked an eyebrow, staring him down suspiciously. "What's that mean?"

"Something memorializing your town. The incident. The tragedy. Provided by you, kept and presented within Tradegate's walls." With a warm, well-practiced smile, he looked to the two survivors, head slightly bowed. "It hardly seems right for the victims of such a horror to be remembered only by its survivors."

Cathra looked with befuddlement to Cairon, who returned her look just as strongly. "Y'mean y'- why? That's not...I don't understand."

"Yeah. Don't get..." Cairon scratched at his head, shocked. "That's all? Not...I mean...it's good o'you, sir, but...you're sure?"

He nodded, his smile softening. "I am. My deal is offered. Do you have a response now, or will you wish time to think?"

"Ah..." He exchanged another quick look to Cathra. "We...need time to think, aye."

"Mm. Then I can give you until the arrival of the March to decide. They will be arriving in approximately three and a half hours from now; it should be enough time to ponder the question, I'd hope."

Cathra gave him a suspicious look, but nodded herself. "...then...then we'll talk it over, an'...an' we'll tell you what we decide on then."

"Good. Until then, my guests." With that, he turned from the four, stepping away towards an attendant further along the city wall.

"...well." Trasal looked off after him for a few moments, before turning back to the rest, descending the stairs with them and keeping his voice somewhat low. "That was...an interesting discussion. And unexpected. You two carried yourselves well. Impressive, both of you."

Cairon and Cathra shared another glance, smiling a bit to one another, as Jazaka offered her agreement. "Strange arrangement, though...perhaps I'm just prodding the canopy for holes in a rainstorm, but should we really trust a deal that seems so tilted in our favor? Trasal, what do you think? Can we trust this person? I have to say, merchants of any sort always make me suspicious; powerful ones even more so."

"Oh, I very much agree, and were it anywhere else I'd be seeking the fine print near immediately. Even if this is the Upper, trust me when I say that Good is not always good." Chuckling at himself, Trasal shrugged. "But I fail to see how this could be exploited. What advantage could one get from a memorial to a town on the far side of the Spire? He didn't even demand a particular design. The offer is almost suspiciously benevolent, but...presuming we get what was offered, I fail to see how we could be harmed from it. And I hardly think he would go so far as to outright defraud us; Tradegate's reputation hinges on fair trade, after all."

"...y'think we should take him up on it, then, Trasal?" Cairon peered over his shoulder, a tad uneasy about the smoothness of it all.

"That...would be my vote, yes. But what do the two of you think? This was your idea, after all. And your effort."

Cathra scowled, arms crossed and tail sagging. "I mean...don't see an angle either. Can't see how he could twist it on us. An'...worst case, we're no worse off than we were...right?"

"If Cath' doesn't see a trick to it, then I say th'same." He grinned to her, her only response a dismissive snort. "But couldn't hurt t'wait 'til the time, eh? See if...anythin' springs to mind how we might get cheated?"

"That does seem safest," Jazaka said. "And perhaps Tiana or Jreen will have some insights we haven't thought of. Do you know when she should be back, Trasal?"

"Oh, I can't imagine it wouldn't be in time to discuss. She may have been in a...poor state, but I cannot imagine her spending that much time on chopping down training dummies or...whatever she's ended up doing." Brushing a loose bit of hair out of his eyes, Trasal frowned. "Still...hm. I'd planned to take a closer look at this...fascinating phenomenon, this early march. I'll remain here for an hour, and I'll return then to the inn. And if she hasn't come back yet, I'll seek her out."

Cathra firmly nodded her head. "Aye. An'...we can start workin' on what...sort of memorial. I've...got some ideas..." Beginning to shrink into herself, she pulled herself back straight as Cairon rubbed her shoulder, drawing from him. "...we'll have something."

Chapter Text

 The twenty-second of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

"Just look at them, Jreen! Aren't they wondrous?" Standing at the edge of the vast line of modrons, Trasal grinned, arms crossed in utter satisfaction. "Each one designed for a particular purpose, in a particular form, to fulfill a particular duty. Perfect order, perfect organization. The communication alone needed to maintain such a massive march in proper time must be enormous, and yet there's none of the clamor, none of the confusion or misunderstanding that you'd find with mortal armies. Their leader lets out one of those strange screeches, and each echoes it perfectly down the line." He shook his head in astonishment, looking back over his shoulder towards Jreen, who was staring on himself with quill to codex, recording all he could see.

It was only a quarter hour earlier that the courier had arrived at the library, while Jreen was immersed in study of baatezu behavior and biology. Such as it was, of course; biology wasn't quite the right term for them, but it was near enough. It had quickly revealed itself as a fascinating topic that he regretted never having devoted much attention to in the past; oh, he knew much of fiends, but almost entirely through the lens of the totem hunts of the Bloodfeather. Weaknesses, strategies, dangers, all that a gnoll might need to know to track and slay. But never much on their ways, their culture. Something for Jreen to suggest after his return, he felt. The better you can know the mind of your target, after all, the better you can exploit it.

Broken from his reading, he had been concerned at the message, and surprised that Trasal wouldn't have simply come himself. But standing here before the full breadth of the March, Jreen could see why he couldn't tear himself away. He wouldn't have been able to either.

"Wondrous, yes. Intriguing forms...Jreen wonders how they function. Mechanical parts and living parts working together...is natural? Created?"

"Created, I'm sure. They're exemplars, after all. Law given living form. Though I can't say I know much of their nature beyond that."

"Hmm. Representation certainly seems beyond simply skill at obeying. Jreen notices mathematical patterns in construction, in organization. Even screeches seem to have mathematical patterns in them, though Jreen cannot hear details well enough to tell for certain."

Trasal looked to Jreen, impressed yet not surprised. "Can you tell me more? I'd love to learn from your insights, my scientific friend."

Jreen's ears perked, even as he cowered slightly from the compliment. None in the tribe seemed to care much for his interests, only the results; he remembered so many rebukes from Mirren, their clan's flind, over his life. A compliment always seemed to precede some sort of teasing or mocking. But his friends always seemed truly interested! 

Clearing his throat, he gestured to the mass. "Well...more gnolloid ones Jreen hasn't figured out yet, but ones that look like geometric shapes? They are in pattern. Many, many spheres, on ground and in sky, each with just one eye and mouth. Lowest, Jreen thinks? Simple form, dull eye, no apparent curiosity. No intelligence. Plus, makes sense that most would be lowest...caste? Species? Jreen isn't sure..."

Trasal nodded slowly, listening as Jreen continued on.

"...anyway! Then there are blocky ones, with two eyes and two mouths. See there?"

"...two?" Trasal inspected this variety closely; like a cube sliced horizontally in half, hinged, with a normal-seeming face embedded on the upper section. Shadowed below, though, he did indeed make out a second mouth on the lower section, immediately below. "Ah...so it is. And then..." Gazing across the March, he nodded slowly, pointing first to the tetrahedral figures, point down with three spindly legs off each the three visible facets, a single eye and mouth on each. "...three. And four..." His hand moved to another, a cube with a similar face on each of its four vertical facets, staring back at him with some slim inquisitiveness; more than any other geometric caste seemed to show, at least. "And...is there more?"

Jreen nodded, gesturing to a single example visible in the mass, a starfish-like being with five prehensile arms, each with its own eye and mouth, balanced carefully on five legs as it eyed the modrons all about it, eyes flitting here and there. "Each is less common than last...and Jreen has not seen six. Jreen thinks above five is complex ones? Intriguing arrangement. Forms are so different; Jreen would have expected more modular design for ease of improvement and repair, but no. Curious!"

Snorting quietly, Trasal shook his head. "Your observational skills are without compare, friend. I'm disappointed in myself for not noticing it."

"Ah, well...Jreen is...practiced in observations of natural world. Science and all...is nothing." He let out a wheezing snicker, shoulders hunched on himself.

"Hardly nothing. Now what else have you noticed?" Leaning closer, Trasal strained for a peek at his journal, but no luck; it was all written in Draconic.

"Ah...well...each seems to direct ones right below in number? But only right below. Jreen has never seen one direct another more than one count below...very strict regimentation. Sometimes lower ones seem to not even recognize higher. Jreen saw three-modron bump into five-modron when five stopped to watch idiot throwing rock, and three didn't even notice it. Simply kept moving."

"Impressive training, then. It's no wonder there's no crosstalk; requirements like that would simplify passing orders immensely."

"Oh? Jreen will take Trasal's word on that...but other than that, Jreen has seen nothing else worth note." He scowled, snorting loudly. "Have been watching gnoll-shaped ones for patterns, but...not enough to watch, and behavior too complex." Tapping charcoal stick to parchment, he tilted his head, letting his voice fall low. "Jreen is...considering capturing sphere to study more closely. But modrons have been vicious to others nearing too close. Likely too dangerous."

"...capture?" Eyes wide, Trasal stared back. Would Jreen really do something like that against such a wonder as this?

"Would not kill! Simply study close. Besides, Jreen has been watching spheres carefully, and...spheres are very dumb. Very very dumb. Less than animal, Jreen thinks. Like big metal insect. Jreen has studied insects before, knows how to study without killing and put back after."

"...mmph. I'd still rather you...not do that, friend." With a sigh, he rested his hand on the gnoll's fuzzy shoulder. "It would feel almost...sacrilege."

"Jreen will not anyway. Not willing to be stabbed to death for chance at studying metal sphere walker." His eyes fell back to his notes, jotting something down, as Trasal nodded approvingly.

"Good. I knew you were too wise to commit such an act." With a smile, he sighed, content in watching the flow of modrons past him.

Jreen barely heard him, nodding his head absently while marking the final stroke of his sentence: "<Find safer source of one-modrons. Must be for sale somewhere?>"

Chapter Text

Personal diary of Ondrild, professor of mechanology at the University of Automata. 

Reaping 20, Hashkar 127

Day 3, hour 19 of Modron March

Approximately 150 miles covered since the March begun.

The March continues on its inexorable course, but the clear oddities of the modrons’ behavior continue to make themselves known. While they seem, as has been reported in past marches, to largely ignore our presence when we refrain from directly interacting with them, most such interaction has been met with quick retribution. Any attempts at conversation are ignored except where relevant to the success of the March, but any physical interaction, as well as any action determined by the modrons to be a possible threat, has been responded to with what I can only characterize as heavily excessive force. Already I’ve faced harm to my research assistants as a result. When attempting closer observation of one of the septons, Celeste had her arm broken by a tridrone seeking to fend her off, and Davis had his shoulder dislocated by a pair of monodrones that seemed to judge his sketching supplies as weapons. Both have since been healed by Sarenpet, a priest of Thoth that joined us the previous afternoon, as have others similarly injured by overly-eager modrons, but the actions are still astoundingly out of character for this normally benign, if single-minded, people.

Putting my own concerns aside for a moment, this event is certainly a treasure trove for academics in any field even partially related to the modron species. I may not have any great expertise in their culture, but in observing the interactions between the various castes, seeing how orders are passed throughout the ranks and tasks are performed, I’ve already gained a certain insight into their ways; assuredly naught compared to a true expert, but still quite intriguing. Physiologically, I’ve learned little new, although the opportunity to view so many hierarch modrons acting in the field is rare indeed; while the base modrons are known by near all planeswalkers, few hierarch modrons outside the occasional decaton are ever encountered outside the walls of Regulus. Yet here we have examples of every caste from decaton up to quinton. However, even this pales in comparison to the greatest boon so far: witnessing in person my first modron promotion.

Such a witnessing is a rare occasion; I can only recall three previously noted instances across the literature outside the March, as one must be lucky enough to encounter a modron selected for promotion at the instant of death of another modron somewhere in existence. However, the particular characteristics of the March lend itself well to such; as has been previously noted, promotion protocol for March participants is adjusted so as to prioritize fellow participants in promotion track, likely to ensure the presence of enough higher-caste individuals to allow for the March’s success. As such, the literature has noted fifty-three observed cases of modron promotion across the previous five Marches. And I suppose that I now provide for number fifty-four.

Upon the occasion of a trio of fhorge crossing the course of the Procession, the inevitable fight was disastrous for the fhorge, as would be expected (although I must note that, along similar lines to those described earlier, the modrons seemed oddly intent on ensuring their deaths even following an attempted retreat). However, a duodrone was fatally injured in the process, with dissolution occurring within minutes of the conflict. By the best measurement I was able to make, promotion within the monodrone crowd occurred at the same instant. It largely resembled a mechanical process, panels and limbs reorienting themselves much in the manner of more elaborate clockwork devices I’ve encountered among the tinker gnomes, but beneath the surface I believe I did espy brief signs of biological organs adjusting and repurposing themselves. (See the sketch following.) The obvious difference in size and mental capability brings forth questions as to whether the visible components were purely cosmetic and cloaking a deeper transformation, but barring more direct experimentation the question will have to remain open for the moment.

At our current rate of progress, presuming average Outlander travel times within the outer ring, we are expected to arrive at the city of Fortitude within the next one to four weeks. However, past analysis has noted that March travel times tend to skew towards the shorter end of most paths, and thus I expect not to take more than two. While theories abound — most popularly, the theory that modrons are able to calculate the most efficient metaphysical geodesics for travel within planar realms — I hope to continue auric studies in order to determine potential answers via direct evidence. Given the nature of this March, I shall be cautious in my measurements, and I will ensure my assistants are as well this time.

In truth, I regret bringing them given the danger clearly exhibited here; I’d thought it a harmless journey, as danger to attending followers is rarely noted prior to the Chaotic planes, and almost unheard of among the Lawful Upper. The trampling fatalities in Automata upon their departure perhaps should have warned me, but the emergence was a surprise to all, after all. And I suppose no mortal is immune to rationalization. Still, while I suggested they return to the University after their injuries, their devotion was near as much as my own, and they refused to hear of it. It warms me to see such devotion amongst my students, and I foresee great things for them in the future.

Chapter Text

The twenty-second of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Reclining in a corner of the Golden Hound's sitting area, Jazaka paged through one of her recent purchases, head canted to listen to the quiet whispers of Cairon and Cathra as they continued their work. In both, she heard an intensity she hadn't in them in some time, and it brought some lightness to her heart. For weeks, Cathra had bounced between sullen withdrawal and short-tempered rage, but ever since admitting her feelings for Cairon, she'd slowly found at least some degree of balance. And Cairon himself wasn't unchanged either; himself having been jumping between paralyzing sorrow and almost obsessive submergence in the mere idea of adventure, shoving his feelings away to focus on the wonders of the journey, only to have them tumble back atop him whenever things grew slow. But ever since his own opening, he'd been...not more serious, exactly? But more calm. More able to confront the tragedy.

And this deal from the Master Trader? She wondered if it was at some level intentional on his part — he does lead an Upper Gate-town, after all, so she wouldn't put it past him — but intentional or not, she'd been able to hear the difference in the two as they devoted themselves to their work. Cairon, scouring his memory with her to note down every citizen of Broadshire they could, with a brief line on each. And Cathra sketching out an image of the village before it had burned, a talent she didn't even know she'd had. Wishing she could have been able to see more of her work was one of the few times this last year that she'd truly regretted the curse on her sight. 

Glancing towards the entrance as the door was eased open, she grinned towards the familiar gait and dull patch of golden light. "Tiana. Welcome back. Trasal said you weren't in the best spirits; feeling better, I hope?"

"Ah..." Tiana let out a brief puff of air. "I suppose. Ah, but...excuse me, I should see if the embassy has responded."

"Take your time." She smiled, bowing her head as Tiana stepped by. Returning to her book, she let herself fall engrossed in this maid's lusty adventures within her newfound prince's castle, hardly aware of Tiana's return until she sat beside her, fingers running along the smooth parchment in her hand.

Closing the book, she glanced towards Tiana, glad she hadn't gotten too far into the tale of bristling stubble and heaving bosoms before Tiana's arrival. "Poor news, I take it?""

"Mmph. No different than what she said when we'd spoken in person." She sighed, sitting back in an unexpected huff as she crumpled the note in her hand. "I can hardly believe them. We wish to stand against an unjust act, and seek out those who have murdered thousands in cold blood, and they..." She closed her eyes, hands on the edge of the table as she pulled her breathing under control, speaking quiet prayers to Chronepsis as she pulled her emotions back under control.

"It's fair to be upset, Tiana." Resting her hand on hers. Jazaka smiled. "Trust me, I've had more than my fair share of rages. As Cairon and Cathra could tell you." As Jazaka nodded in their direction, Tiana took notice of them, curiosity distracting her from frustration.

"What are they doing?"

"Creating. You may not have had success in your attempt, but they did. We'd met with the leader of the city, the 'Master Trader'. They'd proposed a deal for information, and he accepted. A memorium to Broadshire in exchange for information on a sage who could legitimately help us."

"...a memorium..." She softened, her posture relaxing. "...good. It deserves to be remembered. I regret not having thought of it myself..." Taking a slow breath, she leaned forward on crossed arms. "Do you think they made the proper decision, Jazaka? Am I...placing their justice above that of the greater Prime?"

"Perhaps." Jazaka smirked, resting her hands atop her book.

"That is not the response I'd hoped for."

"It may not be. But it is very likely that you are. Because you are mortal, with feelings. And I know why it is so important to you to hold them back, to hold yourself back. I know how much your faith means to you, and how important standing for the ideals of Chronepsis is."

Tiana leaned a little deeper, braid hanging off her side, a few stray hairs hanging loose into her face but with no effort to brush them aside.

"...what were you like before coming to his service? You are — forgive me — so young. Especially for a knight. And I've always wondered...what you must have been like as a child. If you were quite so stoic and serious sitting in the fields while giggly peers ran about all around you, chasing butterflies and throwing balls about."

"Mm...much the same, I suppose." She sighed, too exhausted to hold herself back. "I lived with my father, caring for our cottage, our fields, our few livestock. I worked. I read. I listened to tales of Chronepsis. I learned the land. Learned the blade. There were no other children, about, giggling or otherwise. Myself, my father. Neighbors. The occasional traveler."

"It sounds like it must have been lonely. No wonder you've found yourself so attached." Jazaka smiled, sliding her a small plate of blueberry tarts she'd slowly been working through.

"Mm." Taking a single tart, she gave Jazaka an appreciative glance, biting it gracefully and quickly licking the crumbs off her lips. "I know I shouldn't question their word-"

"And why not? You're a smart girl. You can come to your own opinions."

Sitting up straight, she finished the rest of the tart, shaking her head briskly. "It can be debated before it is settled. But once decided, it must be upheld in practice, whatever our thoughts beforehand. Change is internal; stability external. As it is for people, so is it for their institutions. Otherwise, none could stand. At times, we must act in ways we may disagree with, or else society would cease to function."

"Mm. And is this one of those times? May I see the message?"

Hesitantly, Tiana handed Jazaka the crumpled paper. Retrieving a magnifier from her pack, Jazaka peered over it, while Tiana took another tart.

"Well. Do you know what I don't see here?"

"Hm?"

"I see nothing saying you cannot act. That you cannot seek justice for your friends on your own. To the point that it seems almost an intentional omission, hm?"

"I...know, Jazaka." She frowned, wringing her hands. "It is...tacit permission, if not open. And yet if they cannot-"

"Do you serve Bahamut?"

"In a-" Jazaka gave her a long look, and she sighed, knowing what she was intending. "...no. I serve Chronepsis."

"Was the destruction of Broadshire a manifestation of the natural order? A death unavoidable?" At Tiana's look of mild surprise, Jazaka grinned. "Some of us do listen when you speak on your beliefs."

Tiana seemed to waver, a third tart held between either hand. "...I'm...yet unsure. But...it is doubtful to me. And I have not sensed Chronepsis's favor wavering."

"Then tacit or explicit, does it even matter what the embassy says?" Sliding the paper back across the table, Jazaka flicked her head. "You approached them for aid. They had none to give due to other concerns. There is nothing more to it."

Her words seemed to reach Tiana, a spark of relief glittering within her. "...you are...right, Jazaka. I...perhaps I am...fretting too greatly." Her shoulders all but sagging, the stress seemed to drain from Tiana's face. "You sell your wisdom short."

"Mmph. As do you. Now, why don't you go gain a better view on their project? You are something of an expert on the matter. And you could use a distraction of good works."

Tiana glanced briefly to the small plate, and Jazaka gave another quick flick of her head, frills fluttering. "Yes, yes, take them with you."

She smiled — for once, not even attempting to hide it — and stood with plate in hand, crossing the room to meet with her companions. Her friends. Victims of an injustice she would not let remain unpunished.

===

As the sky showed its first signs of darkening, Trasal and Jreen walked alongside the march, keeping amongst the cloud of followers that hovered about it. Basking in the purity of their essence, of their fundamental drive towards Order, Trasal couldn't help but grin, shaking his head absently.

"Truly amazing that we would arrive in time for such a sight. It feels almost ordained; that we would be brought here now, to experience...this."

"Mmph...yes, yes..." Jreen hardly noticed Trasal's presence, buried in his notes as he recorded observation after observation, muttering under his breath in absent Draconic.

Trasal offered Jreen a laugh; he'd been doing little more than sketching and noting for hours since meeting him at the bank of the river of modrons. Some insightful conversation, but otherwise not much but engrossment in his work. "And so enwrapped in mystery, this. Why would such a great force for Law act so out of...step..." Trailing off, he frowned, memories of the omens he and Tiana tracked to Broadshire fluttering back to mind like migrant butterflies. "...hm. Jreen?"

He offered no response, peering at the nearby spherical modron, the figure staring back with its dull, uncomprehending gaze.

"Jreen."

Still no response as the gnoll moved his hand to and fro, watching the cyclopean eye set in the middle of its surface track it back and forth with perfect precision, its broad mouth fixed and unmoving.

Jabbing Jreen's side with an elbow, Trasal allowed a bit of heat to leak into his words. "Jreen."

Stumbling, Jreen yelped, holding his ribs as he looked askance to his companion. "Yes yes what?"

"What if, perhaps, this isn't coincidence? Our presence here and now?"

"...eh? Jreen does not understand? How could it not be coincidence? Jreen and friends decided to come days and days ago, and Trasal only one who ever even heard of modrons."

"Yes, but..." He shook his head briskly, watching a nearby winged sphere with concern. "It was a disruption of Law that brought us to Broadshire, hm? And this itself is clearly yet another such disruption, is it not? Law rarely brooks with happenstance."

"...hmm." Jreen considered his words, nodding slowly. "Trasal is much more expert on metaphysics, so Jreen will trust his word on that. But Jreen fails to see how such a thing could happen."

"The How is rarely a concern for such subtleties in the ways of Law. The more significant is often the What. And this March is as 'what?' as any, no?"

Jreen snickered, grinning to Trasal. "But without knowing how, can Trasal even find any answers to questions? How can Trasal tell coincidence from important without knowing about mechanism?"

"Instinct, I suppose? I simply...know."

He scoffed, his ear twitching. "Instinct is for hunting. Truth needs thought. Jreen trusts Trasal's knowledge, but Jreen thinks...deserves investigation. Deserves study. Perhaps Jreen ought to study nature of Law more deeply..." Looking back to the Modrons, he narrows his eyes, potential anatomical diagrams flipping through his mind.

"Well, if you did turn your mind towards that, my furry friend, I feel that we'd have all answers we might want within a month or two." Trasal chuckled, clasping Jreen's shoulder. Before he could say more, his attention was caught ahead, spying Cairon waving his arm towards the two. "Ah...but we can discuss this further. This stage of the March is almost complete, and I do believe we are about to step down from our own ourselves."

Splitting from the line of Modrons as it began its descent into the wide ditch, they approached the gate with a smile; ahead of them, Cairon and Cathra stood at the fore, Tiana holding Jazaka's arm just behind.

"'Ey, Jreen!" Cairon stepped forward, scrollcase gripped in hand, as wide a grin as ever. "You two 'bout ready to go? Think we did it right well; eh, Cath?"

"...eh..." Smiling a bit, her tail drooped, dragging across the cobblestone. "'s not bad. Blondie helped too. Should be good 'nough for him, at least."

"Good, good." With a sharp nod, Trasal smiled to the lot, settling in at the edge of the excavation as the March stopped in an instant; no ripple, no bump, merely every single individual ceasing its pace all at the same moment. At the fore stood the apparent leader; one of those amongst their number with a more humanoid shape, four symmetric arms arrayed around its collar, fan-like wings folded gracefully behind itself, and a perfect diamond of a...well, of a diamond embedded within its silver forehead. It stood still, patiently, as the Master Trader stepped to it, contract gripped in his hands and held out for the modron leader's inspection.

Without any exchange of word, the modron took the sheaf of parchment, flipping through page after page with impressive speed, eyes flicking back and forth in a near-blur. Dozens upon dozens of pages absorbed in a matter of minutes, before the towering figure — taller even than the Master Trader — returned the agreement with a sharp nod. Words in Common drifted up from the ditch over the otherwise-uneasy silence, spoken in an odd, tinny near-monotone, only a bare hint of modulation from word to word.

"The fourteenth application of the agreement between the Modron March and the entity known as the Master Trader is recognized and accepted. 25 tons of gear steel, as specified in section 4, paragraph 3, will be delivered to the city of Tradegate following the successful completion of the March. As specified in section 6, paragraph 2, an additional 5 tons will be provided due to extenuating circumstances. As specified in section 4, paragraph 4, entity known as the Master Trader is to provide for immediate passage to the layer of Shurrock within the planar domain of Bytopia. Is said entity able and willing to provide for such passage?"

"I am. Our arrangement is considered fulfilled, and I thus welcome you all to Bytopia."

And with the Trader's last word, the entire March faded in seconds; no light, no fanfare, merely gone. Stepping forward, the Trader began to walk up and out of the ditch, letting loose a deep sigh of relief, knowing that his city was safe once more.

Atop the ridge, Cairon sucked in air through his teeth, astounded. "Cor...quieter'n I expected, but...still. Like they were never even there. Amazin'..."

"That it was, friend..." Unable to stop grinning, Trasal could only shake his head. "As proper and as direct as I'd have hoped. No quarrel, no issue, simply a properly-made arrangement properly executed. Each side satisfied by the results, neither cheated nor exploited. As it should be."

"Hm." Tiana canted her head, arms crossed, as she nodded with her own approval. "Simple. Clean."

"I appreciate your approval, Lady Siderel." Nearing the six, the Trader offered them a nod of greeting. "And it is a pleasure to meet you properly; as you, Sir Jreen of the Bloodfeather."

Jreen snorted, having been warned of his insight, but still found himself a little set off by it. Still, as always, curiosity won out over emotion. "Did Jreen hear properly? Fourteenth agreement? Then arrangement was founded...about thirty-seven hundred years ago?"

"Thereabouts." He nodded to the gnoll, offering a weary smile. "I rarely count the years for such distant events anymore."

Cairon's eyes went wide, choking a bit on words caught in his throat. "You're near to four thousand years old?"

"Oh, longer than that; I'm unsure just how long at this point, but it has been a good deal of time."

"...intriguing..." Jazaka's attention was caught at that, brow furrowed in consideration, as Cairon shook his head sharply in disbelief.

"How? I've met bariaur before, you lot don't live near that long."

"Service to my city, young Sir Marast." With a sweeping move of his arm, he bowed at the waist, grinning conspiratorially. "I care for Tradegate, and Tradegate cares for me. We are inseparable so long as we both stand."

"...what's...what's it like?" Cairon's eyes flicked for a moment to Jreen; without notice, it seemed, which he was thankful for. "Livin' so long...seein' so many folk pass."

"Ah, always the question." Taking a deep breath, the Master Trader settled himself for a moment, lowering himself to rest on the ground, eye-level now with most of the gathered. "It is difficult. But one cherishes the time one has. Mortality does not inhibit emotion. Though those of our sort do find ourselves...needing relationships with peers in longevity as well. An anchor, to remind ourselves that not all in life is loss. And existing here, within the planes, where those who pass are granted their final rewards? A help as well; to know that their well-being continues even beyond their mortal existence."

"...a...aye." Nodding, he wiped at his eyes, letting out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "Thank y', sir. That...it kinda helps me a bit to hear."

"Of course. But now, I believe you both have something for me?"

Cathra stepped forward, plucking the scrollcase from Cairon's hands and holding it out to the Trader. "A...a memorium to Broadshire, like y'wanted. As much...as much as we could remember."

Taking it, the Trader peered over the case, his eyes fading to a glittering, solid violet; not opening it, not turning it about, his eyes seeming merely to peer within its very nature. He stood in silent analysis for near half a minute; as Cathra, fidgeting, tried to speak, he lifted his index finger to her, begging patience.

Finally, he looked up, his eyes shifting back to their former silvery-grey. "More than sufficient, the both of you. This is more than I had hoped for; in exchange, not only shall I tell you of this sage, but I shall usher you to them."

Glancing amongst one another, the party in whole was cheered, eager to hear more.

"The individual whose name I had in mind is a sage who's visited Tradegate a number of times in the last seven centuries. An ursinal, they — one of the guardinals of Elysium, the neutral-leaning of the celestials. A wise figure by the name of Harneven, an expert on — among many other topics — the inner politics and workings of the baatezu. They have studied this topic for centuries, having amassed a wide trove of knowledge on details of baatezu culture, society, and inner workings that few match. They have published and sold a number of works on the topic in Tradegate's markets, and their works always fetch a tremendous amount of interest amongst marketgoers whenever one surfaces. And considering that they have not yet been assassinated for their publications, their wit and skill must be an equal match for their knowledge." He chuckled quietly, crossing his arms. "They dwell in a lone tower in Shurrock, a day's journey from Yeoman."

"...tha's all?" Cairon's grin broadened as he scoffed. "Then we might have answers by dinner t'morrow?"

"You very well might."

"...well." Cathra was struck quiet, unsure how to take such news; one of the first steps towards real progress since they'd been expelled from Baphomet's temple? It was hard for her to believe it; she laughed sharply in disbelief, slowly shaking her head.

"Then is this arrangement acceptable to you all?"

"I can't imagine why not." Smirking, Trasal looked over the others, nodding with Tiana. 

"Jreen is going where Cairon goes!"

Pushing himself back to his feet, the Master Trader looked to them each in turn, scrollcase gripped in his hand. Handing a pair of parchments to Cairon, the Trader smiled warmly to both him and Cathra. "Here are directions to follow to reach his home, and a letter of introduction for upon your arrival." As Cairon slid the parchments carefully into his vest pocket, the Trader's eyes flared violet once more. With a broad grin, he gestured behind the assembled group. "And with our deal concluded, may I welcome you to the plane of Bytopia."

Cairon turned, looking behind himself as with the rest of the party. Behind them was no city, the expanse of Tradegate not to be seen. Instead stood a wide, lightly-forested field, a small settlement visible on the horizon. Mountains stretched up in all directions ahead of them, reaching up, up...up...to another landscape hanging in the sky above them. Immediately overhead, thousands of feet above them, a wide, pure lake rippled from a light breeze. The party gasped nearly as one, Jreen falling back onto his rear as he stared fearfully at the ground above.

"Wh-what...how...what...I-Jreen does not...impossible!"

"...cor blimey..." Cathra peered up, eyes racing over the second land, struck hard enough her faux-Sigil accent slipped. "...there's a town over there...an' look, tha' mountain's stretchin' all th'way up to th'other ground! Not even a mountain, 's a big spire..."

"Gods but can you believe th'sight?" Cairon looked across his friends, laughing in amazement at the novelty of it all. His expression soon turned, though, as he noticed a missing member among their ranks. "...'ey, where's Jazaka?"

Tearing his eyes from the landscape above, Trasal peered about, brow furrowed. "She was surely with us..."

"Pah! It was tha' bariaur sod! Knew this was too good t'be true!" Cathra's face turned deep violet, her hands twitching over the handles of her katars as she . "We need t'get back t'that city! Who knows what he's doin' with her?"

Cairon's heart began to race; was this their fault? Was this part of some kind of scheme? What did they miss? As he paced, he all but stumbled into Jreen, who was finding some anchor in the sudden incident, steadying his breathing as he got to his feet. Helping him to his feet, Cairon looked to Jreen, shuddering as he let out a long breath.

"...Jazaka is all right. Jreen is...is certain of it. Is clever, smart." Keeping his eyes on the ground, he flicked his head sharply. "Jazaka is all right."

"Mm." Tiana nodded, exchanging a glance with Trasal. "She likely is for now, at least. We should not panic. Let us search for now; perhaps she was simply...sent nearby by mistake. No being is perfect."

"She's right." Trasal nodded in return to her, his mouth set in a firm line. "We'll search the area, and reunite shortly. And we will remain calm until then, hm?" Glancing about, he began to gesture here and there. "Cairon and Cathra, you check that copse. Jreen, you look beneath that ridge. Tiana and I will check downwind towards that river."

Still uneasy, the three split off along their own paths, while Tiana stepped to Trasal's side. After a few minutes walk, he looked to her, signing to ensure that nothing was overheard.

You doubt finding her as well, hm?

I do. But it would not do for them to hear that.

I agree. Hopefully this will keep their attention until we can figure out a proper plan. He sighed, looking up and down the length of the nearby river. 

Tiana frowned, stepping along its length, eyes flaring in divinatory blue as she gazed about, hunting for signs of stray auras. I don't believe this any sort of...underhanded scheme, though. It hardly seems the place of the ruler of an Upper city.

You have not heard the stories of Guardinals that I have. He gave a dismissive scoff, his own eyes aglow with the same aura. But you have a point. He seemed trustworthy enough to me.

As to me. And fooling both of us would not be an easy task. She sighed, rubbing her brow for a moment before returning her attention to Trasal. Let us- Cutting herself off, she darted ahead with widened eyes, Trasal following confusedly in her path. Shortly, Trasal spied what she had; a reptilian figure leaning on a walking cane, peering about in mild befuddlement.

"Jazaka?" Tiana called ahead, drawing her attention as her eyes faded back to gold; looking back towards her, Jazaka grinned broadly, waving back to Tiana.

"Ah, hello!" Making her way towards the two, Jazaka carefully navigated the ground with her hanbo, looking utterly delighted. "There's something about the air here, isn't there? It smells different than the Outlands. Headier, it seems. More...more vibrant."

"Well...I'm glad you're enjoying the environs, Jazaka." Trasal chuckled, coming up behind Tiana. "But you worried us quite a bit."

"Ah...yes, I must apologize for that. I had some words to exchange with the Trader before our departure. A private matter. And besides, we didn't quite have a chance to retrieve our gear from the inn, hm?" Jerking her head to the side, Jazaka gestured to a small pile of packs arrayed carefully on the grass.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Trasal again chuckled, exchanging a wry look with Tiana. "I...hadn't even thought about that. Embarrassing oversight, that. Well...let us cart these back over to the others, keep them from worrying more too?"

"Hm." With an absent nod, Tiana moved with Trasal to the pile of packs, leveling a look at Jazaka as she lifted a pair onto her shoulders. "Yes, let's."

Chapter Text

Mover Five Tonat Shar
127th year of the reign of Factol Hashkar
Sigilian day Tithing 5
Outlander day Zenith 10

As I’d feared, the previously mentioned political division in Fortitude has only grown more intense. Debates within the Secret Conclave as to the implications of the approaching March have shown no sign of stopping, despite projections of their approach in only two days.

To reprise my previous explanation: In brief, the debate hinges on a clause in the founding documents of Fortitude: “...elections for the Secret Conclave are to be held every Cycle, with treaties to be reconsidered alongside elections within one month of the Great Modron Procession, every Great Cycle.” There are as a result two camps within the Conclave: one which argues that as the current March is off-schedule, it should be ignored with regard to the election and treaty consideration, given that this clause specifies its period as one Great Cycle; one which argues that the more significant aspect is the March itself and its historical significance to the beliefs and underpinnings of the philosophies of Fortitude. Within each camp are further subcamps, especially as to the question of scheduling of future Marches and how this may impact future elections; a question they have, of course, failed to gain any answers on, given Regulus's self-isolation. While this may seem a minor point to our number, those in the Conclave seem almost obsessive towards finding the proper direction for proceeding.

As much as I shudder to describe it as such, the chaos brought about by these debates threatens the very underpinnings of the Harmonious Ascension. If the remainder of the Conclave, the supposed best of the people of Fortitude, cannot come to an agreement on as simple a matter as this, what hope does the populace have? As such, I suggest bringing forth greater Harmonium presence within Fortitude, in order to shore up the movements already made towards preparing its people for the Ascension. However, I would suggest acting subtly in this matter, for reasons that follow.

Should the second camp succeed, there are some within the Conclave that I believe would be eager to reconsider our own arrangements with Fortitude. Despite (or perhaps even because of) our influence in Arcadia, there are those uneasy with our involvement in Fortitude. I have even heard some discussion that our influence is in some manner corruptive to their ways. The paranoia that has arisen ever since the disaster of Nemausus has spread to some degree into Fortitude, leaving many of its more fervent citizens wary of any outside influences, even those such as our own that align so closely with their own desires. We can only thank providence that they have not yet discovered our part in that affair. If they only knew of the plans for the city, and how close they are to a true harmony, I feel they would certainly change their opinion. While I understand the need to keep these plans yet secret for the moment, if need be an accelerated timetable may allow for their revelation, which should increase our influence to the point that my word within the Conclave would hold much more weight.

As a result, it is my belief that the most harmonious position is that of the former, of ignoring the March with regard to scheduling, and have been proceeding thusly in Conclave debates to this point. As the law of Fortitude prohibits me from providing identifying information on any other members of the Secret Conclave, I am unable to recommend any specific actions regarding possible contact with those members in disagreement; this will have to hinge purely on my own skill at rhetoric. Further, it is also my suggestion that members of the Harmonium already publicly associated with Arcadia — especially any prominent crusaders — establish residence within Fortitude, to encourage association of our faction with their successful works. Fortitude citizens have a special love for those that seek the destruction of forces opposed to the Greater Good; unsurprising considering the influence of Arcadian petitioners upon their number. Finally, I would repeat my request for consideration of an accelerated timetable for influence of the general public, that it may reach a point such that the Harmonious Ascension could be made public without bringing about discontent.

I humbly request your swift reply.

Mover Three Skylar Mendacin

Chapter Text

The twenty-second of Exhilarus, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

 "Ho, Jreen!" With a wave of his arm, Trasal approached the gnoll, searching about beneath the ridge. "Jazaka is safe and sound, merely a bit delayed. Tiana is retrieving the lovebirds; we're about ready to set off on our walk."

"Ah...good! Good." Nodding quickly, Jreen wrung his hands together, eyes flicking up to the stone overhang above his head. "Jreen will wait here, Jreen thinks."

"Oh, come now, friend. Are you truly not intrigued by the nature of this land?" Trasal swung his arms out in an expansive gesture, grinning with delight as he took in both landscapes that stretched out before them. "It's fascinating. A bit unnerving at first, perhaps, but were there a danger, I'm sure we would have seen sign of it by now, eh? And besides, I doubt Cairon would approve of me allowing you to merely sit here the rest of your days." Stepping forward, he gripped Jreen's hand, tugging him along; no quarrel from him, merely quiet whimpers.

"Fine, if...if Trasal insists." His eyes locked on the ground, Jreen stepped ahead behind him, tugging his hand free from Trasal's grip. "Jreen does not like it, though."

"As is your right." With a smirk, he offered another wave across the grassy field, Tiana and Jazaka approaching with Cairon and Cathra straight behind. 

Cairon was near the mirror image of Jreen as he walked along, staring up overhead with wide-eyed glee, arms crossed behind his head. "So many people up there! Y'can just see 'em wanderin' about too, like little tiny dots. D'you think they can see us too, Cathra?"

"Huh?" She looked up herself, mouth twisted in a bit of discontent, her initial shock having since well-faded. "...dunno. Don't really care. Let's jus'...jus' hurry along so we can meet this sage berk."

"Eh?" Looking back towards her, Cairon furrowed his brow. "Somethin' the matter?"

"...nah. Nah. Jus'..." She huffed, her voice quiet as she glanced quickly to the women in front of her, hoping not to be overheard. "I dunno. Feel weird. Like my skin's crawlin', like I ought be...be doing somethin'. All antsy."

"Huh. Think y'forgot somethin' maybe?"

"Nah, 's not like that. Jus'...I dunno."  Cathra snorted, giving a frustrated shrug. "I dunno."

"...lemme know if y'feel any worse, aye?" Cairon took her hand as it fidgeted, smiling the most calming smile he could.

Cathra was slow to return it, but return it she did, if slimly. "Yeah."

Whatever she was about to say next, though, was suddenly interrupted as she slammed into Tiana's back with a sharp grunt. "...'ey, Blondie, what's the idea?"

Trasal and Jreen turned, as Jazaka tugged lightly at her arm. Yet she still stood fixed in place, eyes locked to the distant sky, mouth hanging open.

"...Blondie?" Cathra circled around her, snapping her fingers in her face. Tiana brushed her aside, broken for a moment from her reverie.

"...a dragon," she whispered reverently.

"Eh?" Cairon followed her gaze with narrowed eyes, as did half the rest. There indeed was something far off flying about between the two lands, perhaps a mile off; a vaguely serpentine shape, shining a dull blue-grey in the plane's light.

Jazaka simply looked askance towards her, a hand on her shoulder. "Tiana?"

She stepped forward with sudden intent, shrugging Jazaka's hand off. Hands around her mouth, she called forth, eyes glittering in joy and mouth spread into a broad grin, "Hey! Hello!"

Trasal snickered under his breath, stepping up behind her. "I think it may be a bit far to hear you."

Heedless of his words, she shouted again, one arm waving wildly towards the distant figure. "Hello!" It again failed to react, dipping behind a distant mountain and falling out of sight, to her disappointment.

Laughing openly, Cathra shook her head. "Really? What did y'think was goin' t'happen there?"

"I...hmph." Shoulders slumping, Tiana's entire face glimmered in gold. "I've never actually...seen one before. Not in person."

Cairon teased, "Y'got overexcited, eh, Boss? No shame in that! 'sides, it's cute when y'break out like that." At a sudden elbow jab in his side, Cairon looked to the glowering tiefling beside him, chuckling back to her. "'Ey, not like that. 'sides, they call us cute all the time, I can't return it now an' then?"

"...we should keep moving." Still flushed deeply, Tiana took up a quickened pace, striding ahead of the rest. "We have a mission."

Watching her rush off, Cathra smirked slightly, voice hushed. "All right, it is a bit cute."

"Aw, c'mon, Jreen. You're not even a bit curious?" Arms once more behind his head, Cairon stared at the far side of Bytopia, walking beside Jreen with a grin.

Eyes locked on the ground, Jreen huffed. "Curious of what? Jreen doesn't know what Cairon is raving about."

"This all isn't very Science of you, y'know."

"Jreen is plenty Science. Is plane that isn't."

"Uh huh. So you're tellin' me that if the modrons were marchin' around up there, you wouldn't take a look?"

"What is up? There is no up. Jreen only knows down. Jreen doesn't know crazy sky land."

Chuckling, Cairon shook his head, giving his friend a light shove. "So what if we're on the upside-down ground, and that's the right-side up one? And we just don't know it?"

Jreen shuddered, grumbling. "Jreen will eat Cairon's face."

"Y'know, that doesn't mean as much after th'fiftieth time."

"Truly? Curses. Jreen will have to think of something else." Risking a sideglance to Cairon, he let out a pained snicker. "Has Cairon looked at directions yet? City is not far, yes?"

"Oh!" Straightening out, Cairon fumbled in his pocket. "All the mess and excitement, I forgot all 'bout it. Here we go...oh. Oh, you're not gonna be happy about this, pal."

"...do not say it, Cairon."

"Looks like we're gonna have to go-"

"No." Jreen shook his head briskly. "Jreen refuses. Not funny joke."

"Aw, I wouldn't joke 'bout this with you! Tease a little, but that's all." He laughed quietly, handing Jreen the Trader's parchment. "But c'mon, it's not gonna be that bad, I'm sure."

"No. No." Shaking his head again, he let out a quiet whine. "Jreen is not going to go to crazy sky land!"

"I'm sure folks here do it all th-"

Ahead of the group, Trasal spoke up. "Oh, now that's a sight." Leaning on his cane, he stared ahead, as a large cloth-stitched bag began to lift in the air, carrying beneath it a large, carefully-tied crate. Describing it quietly to Jazaka, he paused with the rest of the group, even Jreen caught up by the sight of it.

"...what is...oh. Oh! Jreen has read about this! Heating air to give energy, lift into sky like storm! But..." Canting his head sharply, Jreen watched with the rest as it rose slowly, just barely enough lift to carry its cargo. The entire party watched in silence as it reached further and further overhead, speeding faster as it climbed, until finally reaching the mid-point. Expecting it to simply keep going, he barked in delight as it flipped sharply, the entire thing now appearing upside-down, now drifting "down" slowly towards the land overhead.

"Oh...oh, is very clever! Momentum carried past middle, and then because upside-down, energized air poured out of hole! And then flips, but too heavy to carry, so it sinks to other ground! Amazing! Each land has own subjective gravity, and reverses at center!" Jreen's tail wagged hard enough to stir its own breeze, ears perked as his eyes locked on the balloon's ascending descent. "Is so simple, but so clever! Jreen must talk to people, must know more!"

Cairon stared at Jreen, grinning, feeling his excitement for scientific application carry over. He actually understood most of it this time, even! "Feeling better about this place, now, pal?"

"Jreen was wrong; is not not Science. Is...is brand new Science!" He loped briskly ahead towards the city, leaving the party in his wake as Cairon laughed.

"Glad he turned 'round on it so fast. Hated t'think he'd be walkin' terrified th'whole time we were here." Still grinning, Cairon let out a long sigh, stepping up to Cathra's side. "Figured he'd just need t'find somethin' t'grab his interest, though."

Grumbling, she wrapped her arms around herself. "'least someone's feelin' better. Soddin' fuzzball...mmph. What was that 'bout th'directions, anyway?"

"Ah...well, turns out we'll have t'take a trip...up there." He pointed up to the overhead land, all following his gesture.

Tiana's eyes widened. "Oh." With a curious expression, eyes aglint, she looked back to Cairon. "Perhaps we could take one of those flying balls, then?"

"Eager to go flying, mm?" Jazaka's frills fluttered with a jerk of her head.

Clearing her throat, Tiana shrugged, tapping fingers on the hilt of her sword. "It seems an efficient enough mode of travel. A short trip."

"Mm...don't know about that, though, Boss. Hate to disappoint, but th'directions pointed us towards a spot called Centerspire t'get across? Might get ourselves lost if we take another route."

"...ah." Quiet disappointment tinted Tiana's voice, but with another clearing of her throat, it was brushed aside. "No, we wouldn't want that."

Trasal smiled to Tiana as the party started ahead behind Jreen once more. "Perhaps we'll find time for it later on our journey. I'm sure we'll have a moment or two to give it a try."

"Mmph." Tiana huffed, eyes locked ahead. "There's no need to divert us for-"

Jazaka interrupted her as she locked arms. "Oh, hush. You're as bad as Cathra sometimes."

"'ey!"

Reaching the edge of the settlement, the party pressed on through the open streets, still tracking after Jreen. Cairon watched the various buildings with approval as they passed along: each looked hand-constructed, made with care, whether it was wood, stone, or brick. The love of craftsmanship was visible in every building, and Cairon couldn't help but point out the details left in each that made each unique from the next. It reminded him somewhat of Broadshire, melancholy gripping his heart for a moment, but this time he found himself thinking more on his days with his father learning the smithing trade. Spending hours at his side in the forge, watching him work, taking on more and more of the duties himself as years rolled by. The city inspired him; it had been so long since he'd swung hammer to iron. Not since Redwood, maybe the longest he'd spent outside a forge since he came of age. He ought to get back to it, to...to make something. Something of home. Something solid and familiar, something that would ensure he never forgets.

He felt Samson clamber out of his pocket, licking lightly at his jaw; chuckling, he reached up to scratch the gecko's head. He always had a sense how Cairon was feeling, always a reliable companion.

It was interesting, this city. Grinning to the locals, he nodded to each in friendly greeting. About half gnomes here, and the city's buildings reflected that; it was hard not to feel like a giant passing by houses and shops standing barely a foot or two taller than he was. Maybe this was how Cathra always feels? He'd spent plenty of time around dwarves, of course, but even that hardly compared to the novelty of all this. Not merely scaled down, either; each of the gnomish buildings he passed was easy to distinguish even if it wasn't for the size. Rounded edges in lieu of straight, the walls coated in a deep, earthy-brown plaster blended with veins of bronze or iron, as though it was cut out the wall of a cavern. He couldn't help but trail his fingers across the surface of one, amazed to not even feel the texture of a smoothing tool; whatever was used to craft it, to smooth the lines, showed a great deal of talent, an amazing attention to detail.

"Mmph. Where is that soddin' fuzzball?" As Cathra spoke up, Cairon pulled himself from admiring the architecture, laughing quietly. 

"He can't be far. C'mon, enjoy yourself while we're here."

Once into the city, the party had split up, searching along the streets for Jreen before taking their next moves. Even Cairon was starting to feel a bit annoyed, eager to move forward to meet with Harneven, but Jreen would be Jreen.

"Maybe we should ask someone for where that floatin' ball thing comes from? Bet he was headin' there."

Cathra frowned, grumbling deep in her chest. "I guess."

"...you doin' any better, Cath'?"

Her eyes jumped to Cairon as she absently shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe? Jus'...I dunno."

"You're not coverin' again, are you?"

"No I'm not 'coverin'," she snapped. "I don't know! It's prob'ly nothin', jus' my soddin' imagination playin' tricks on me. Mmph."

"Hey, it's all right." He held up his hands, chuckling. "Don't mean nothin'. I just worry, y'know?"

"...I know, I know." She rubbed her forehead, tail dragging along the dirt walkway. "Sorry. Tryin' not to...you know."

"I know. But it's only been a day. So don't beat yourself up if y'still get mad now an' then. 'specially if it's at me. I'm used to it, eh?" He half-smiled, hugging about her waist.

Cathra grumbled, putting her own arm around his shoulders before stepping away. "Y'don't have t'be a doormat about it."

"Nah, don't worry. I jus' know you're putting in th'effort, and sometimes it take a while for that to bear fruit. 's like the forge, eh? Y'don't get mad at a sword if it's not sharp after th'first hammerin'."

"...I guess." Cathra looked askance to Cairon. "If you say so, least. Y'know I don't know anything about all that junk. Don't usually hear y'talk like that either."

"Eh...I've got craftin' on the mind, I think. Must be all the workers here? Seems like every other place we pass is a workshop of one sort or 'nother. Guess that fits what th'book said, though...but anyway! It takes time t'change like that, I'm sure. Don't get so mad at yourself 'bout slippin' sometimes, all right?"

Letting out a quietly pained moan, Cathra gave in, rubbing at her face this time. "Okay, okay, okay." Taking in a long breath, she let it out harshly through her nose. "Now I gotta not jus' try not t'get so mad, but I have to not get mad 'bout getting mad either. Thanks, Cai'."

"You're welcome."

"...'ey, that's him, isn't it?" Cathra sped up a bit, calling ahead at full volume headless of the surrounding passersby. "Hey fuzzball! Get your tail back over here!"

"Cath'! Y'can't jus'..." With a sigh, Cairon rushed behind, grumbling under his breath as he chased after her.

Down the lane, Jreen looked up from his tome and adjusted his grip around the half-dozen others under his other arm, ears pointing straight up. "Oh, hello, friends! Sorry, Jreen was excited! Look at all the books Jreen bought! Lots of stuff about Byt-"

He yelped as Cathra smacked his shoulder lightly, scowling. "Bad pup. Heel next time."

Letting out a wheezy laugh, Jreen bowed his head to her. "Should Jreen lick Cathra's hand to show regret?"

"Ugh, no." She flinched back from him as though he was burning. "Your tongue's prob'ly covered in bone dust or lamp oil or somethin'. Now c'mon, let's meet up with th'others so we can keep goin' already." She spun in place, making her way to the square as Jreen scoffed in feigned offense.

"Jreen stopped drinking lamp oil months ago. Too sour."

"Y'know, sometimes I have no idea if you're jokin' or not." Cairon grinned to Jreen, shaking his shoulder. "Y'want I should take some of those books from you? Can't be easy t'carry."

"Oh, yes, Jreen would appreciate!" As he awkwardly held them out to Cairon, Cairon took half, flipping open the first and glancing over the text.

"Ooh. Now this is interestin'. Local life?"

"Yes! Jreen got books about wildlife, history, geography, all sorts of subjects. Jreen doesn't know why Jreen was so nervous!"

Cairon smirked, chuckling. "It was th'land hangin' above our heads, I think."

"Not hanging, though! Or suspended. Just...is. Jreen didn't understand, but now Jreen understands better." He laughed, shaking his head. "Is best way to banish fear. Known is often much less frightening than unknown."

Falling silent, he considered thoughtfully.

"Except for tarrasque. Learning more about that just more frightening."

"Tar-what?"

Ignoring Cairon, Jreen rushed behind Cathra to the rest, calling out greetings as they regrouped.

"...and once we get to Centerspire, we climb up, an' head along th' Clover Hill Trail for a few hours, an' Harneven's tower'll be there alongside."

Tiana nodded to Cairon thoughtfully; after a brief stop at a local inn, Trasal was pointed along to their next step, and now walked the road beyond Yeoman. "And were there any warnings on what to expect on the travel?"

"Nope, all it's got is th'directions. This's a Good plane, though, eh? Y'think there'd be anythin' to worry about?"

She scoffed, her glance to Cairon turning stony, while Trasal muffled a sharp cough beside her. "'Good' does not mean safe, or free of danger. At times you can be lucky if it even truly means moral. Were that it did. The Upper Planes can be as dangerous or deadly as the Lower if you are unprepared."

"...ah." Cairon cleared his throat, remembering only now her upbringing on Mount Celestia. "Aye...good t'know. Then...we'll be careful, Boss."

"Mmph." She fell silent, moving back to the lead of the group.

"That aside," Jazaka said, her tone a bit louder to the gathered party, "remind me again of Centerspire. It is...a climb."

"Aye."

"To the far side of this plane."

"Yup."

"A mile above us."

"Ah...'bout th'long an'short of it, Jazaka." He chuckled uneasily, staring at their distant destination; a massive stone hourglass stretching from earth-ground to sky-ground — from Dothion to Shurrock, he'd since learned from his reading — looking as though two spindly mountains had grown into one another and merged at their center. Clouds drifted about it on both sides, and somehow the sight of it alone brought Cairon some of the unease Jreen must have felt. Somehow, a land simply being overhead was more comforting than this impression of a land...balancing overhead.

"Mostly the long of it, it sounds."

"Now, Jazaka, they did at least mention stairs." Trasal grinned, nudging her with his guide-arm. "No worries of pitons or handholds, at the least."

Jazaka shuddered, groaning. "A mile-long ascent up stairs. The things I do for you all."

"Technically, is half-mile up and then half-mile down!"

Looking askance towards Jreen, Jazaka snorted. "You know, somehow, that does actually sound a bit more comforting. Anyway, are we well on supplies?"

"Aye," Cairon said with a nod. "Checked 'em while Trasal was talkin' to th'innkeep. Got plenty o'rations, plenty o'water. Good for 'least a week, an' this trip's only supposed t'be a couple days."

Cathra grimaced. "We got good stuff, I hope? Not jus' all that dried meat an' fruit an' rot from before?"

"...well-"

"Mmph. I'll catch up with y'all at th'gate." Cathra walked off, turning in place with a few backwards steps as she called back to the others, "If we're walkin' up gods know how many stairs, I'm bringin' some real food!"

"...Jreen cannot complain about that."

"Aye, 's fair." Cairon laughed deeply, shaking his head. "Jus' hope she doesn't load herself down too bad."

It was a thankfully brief walk to Centerspire, a mere two hours before the ascent that loomed ahead. Though an odd effect with this massive landmark showed itself as one grew closer and closer to it. From a distance, it was nothing more than a pillar cinched in the middle, a long column; perhaps a bit unnerving for some, but nothing more. At a certain point, though, ones conception seemed to suddenly shift. Once near enough, it seemed no pillar, but rather a massive stone wall, too near for the curvature to be conceptualized unless one turned to spy the edge. A wall towering up to the heavens; if a person looked up, it was near enough all on its own to give a feeling of falling, plummeting to the distant ground overhead, all on its own.

As Cairon was the first to learn, leaning ashen-faced against the stone, eyes squeezed closed as he panted for breath. Cathra rubbed his shoulder, as the rest gave the pair a bit of space.

"It's all right, Cai'. You're on th'ground."

"...not gonna do tha' again." He chuckled weakly, starting to regain his usual brown pallor as he rubbed at his face, blinking rapidly. "C'mon, let's go."

Cathra smiled; with a quick glance to ensure no one was watching, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, before guiding him back to the others around the pillar. The rest waited at the foot of the stairs, readying themselves for the ascent. Carefully carved long ago, now clearly ancient if well-maintained, they were broad enough to walk three-abreast. Stable, safe, but with no railing to protect one from the open side. Winding up and around Centerspire, with only a person's footing to protect them.

Jreen was the first to step onto the ascent, hand trailing along the stone as he made his way up, eyes carefully following along the leftward curve of the steps as they turned out of sight and ears perked at the muffled conversation of other travelers a rise or two overhead. "Is no problem. Easy climb."

"Mm." Tiana began to regret some her armor, but nothing to be done now. "Not as steep as I'd feared. Nor as crowded."

Looking back down the trail, Trasal nodded. "Another party about an hour behind us, but that's all. Come on, just one step at a time, Jazaka. And watch your right."

Shoving the small of Cairon's back, Cathra chuckled softly as he stumbled onto the first step. "Don't look up this time, eh?"

"Aye, aye..." He rolled his eyes, grumbling. And being sure to keep his eyes downward as he climbed.

Time ticked past, as each of the party wore down further and further, feeling their weight pressing down on them. Step after step after step, seemingly never-ending. 

The first few hundred feet were easy enough; cheerful conversation, taking in the scenery, staring out over the land below. Sharing in amazement and delight. Tiring, of course, but no worse than an uphill hike. But then the air began to thin, far faster than on any Outlander mountain. Tiana was the first to notice the effects; it was almost familiar, reminiscent of home. She slowed the party, careful that their climb didn't outpace their lungs. Yet a slow, easy climb was almost worse than a more natural one, the frustration piling atop their exhaustion. Unlike any usual hike, more than able to speed along, yet forced to hold themselves back.

Small talk failed to quiet grumbling, even between Cairon and Jreen. And yet, as they ascended, they felt lighter and lighter, gravity taking less and less hold on their forms. Letting them speed even faster, if it wasn't for the air. Befuddling, annoying, yet unavoidable. 

In the last fifty feet, they noted rope embedded in the spire, tied off to well-polished, well-kept pitons. As they crested the final steps to the midpoint, the purpose soon became clear; Tiana stumbled at the last step, suddenly and without warning feeling hardly any heavier than a feather. Gripping the rope tightly, she lowered herself down, panting.

"...what a...a strange feeling. Like floating in water." Eyes widened, she looked down to her confused companions. "Take hold. And be wary."

Jreen couldn't help but speed behind her, letting out a wheezy laugh as he experienced the first signs of near-weightlessness. "Jreen thought this would happen, but Jreen did not want to set expectations high!" Gripping the rope in either hand, he paused, pushing himself off and feeling himself rise agonizingly slowly, before finally drifting back down like a petal on the breeze.

Cathra gritted her teeth. "We're not gonna have t'...jump for th'down side an' hope we don't miss, are we?"

At the fore, Tiana pulled herself to a gentle landing, a break in the stairs leading deep into the pillar, a tunnel carved straight through the two-hundred-foot span. "...no, it doesn't appear so." She pulled herself in along the rope, pausing at the mouth for the others, feeling herself bounce with every step. "And I think we've found a welcome place to rest."

"...cor, but this is amazing." Cairon grinned, all irritation banished in an instant as he peered out from the center of the plane, taking a deep breath of the thin, chilled air. Rubbing a copper between his fingers, he flipped it out into the air, watching as it juggled and swayed in the wind. "Ha! It did work! Been wantin' t'do that Science since th'bottom!"

Easing hand over hand, Jazaka squeezed her eyes closed, letting Trasal guide her into the tunnel. "Amazing? By Semuanya...terrifying is more like it." Forcing herself down, she did her best to keep her feet on the ground, not that it seemed to help much.

"Not to worry, we seem safe in here. Rock on all sides, no chance of falling, or...floating away." Trasal laughed, leaping from floor to ceiling. "And I'm sure we can tie ourselves down if need be. This seems like a wonderful place to rest; what an experience, sleeping free of the bounds of gravity, hmm?"

"What an experience indeed," Jazaka said, drier than the Plane of Salt. "I suppose it does look to be getting darker, though. I could use the rest myself."

Meanwhile, Jreen perched at the edge of the tunnel, pulling a slim wick from his pack. Sparking the end into light, he laughed loud enough to rattle the entire tunnel as he watched the flame split into two; one end flickering up towards the ceiling, the other down towards the floor. "Look! Amazing! Flame does not know which direction to flow, so it flows both! Jreen would not have guessed this...Jreen thought perhaps it would be round, but no!"

"Round?" Cathra scoffed, tying a line about her waist. "Fire's not round, 'course it wouldn't do that. I coulda told y'that much, y'barmy."

Tuning her out, Jreen lifted and dropped the wick, watching one flame shrink and then the other, before quenching it between his fingers. "Jreen has so much Science to do tonight...is Cairon ready to help Jreen?" He looked over, tail ablur, as Cairon returned his grin just as broad.

Chapter Text

Night came to Bytopia, sky dimming much as on the Outlands, as Tiana sat on the stairs just below the tunnel, peering out over the land. She watched as glowing dragonflies flitted about in the air, flipping from sky to sky heedless of the bounds of gravity. Legs hanging over the edge, she fiddled with the tip of the rope tied about her waist — Trasal's idea, a line running from her to the guideline. Admittedly, a wise precaution, and one she hadn't considered herself. She stared into the distance, a quiet part of her hoping to catch sight of another dragon, but knowing the odds of such were unlikely indeed.

On reflection, she was perhaps overexcited? But...a true dragon. Even upon Celestia, she'd never seen one in its full glory, but here, in her first hour upon the plane? Truly a sign of Chronepsis' blessing, she was certain.

She took a deep breath, letting her eyes fall closed as she felt the chill in her lungs, the scent of the air here just familiar enough to call her back to home, to her family's farm. Looking to the book in her lap, she flipped it open, her fingers tracing along the words inscribed there. Her father's journal, She long knew its words by heart, she could picture each page line by line in her mind's eye. Yet reading from the pages themselves was still a comfort even now. Begun on the day of her birth, the day of her mother's passing. She wished Father had spoken more of Eytheria, but it was clear that as devoted as he was to Chronepsis, to knowing that ones' time came when proper, that her loss still struck at him deeply. The only hint of a mention in his journal was a single line, the very first one.

My light has been extinguished. But a new spark has been lit in her wake. If I must care for her alone, so be it, my Watcher.

She'd never known him to be a poetic man during her childhood, but every so often — especially during his drunken nights — a particular turn of phrase fell out that refused to dislodge from his mind. Somewhat like Trasal, she supposed, though much less...like Trasal. From his writings, though, his inner poet shined through, allowing her a better sense of the man who raised her for fifteen years, before joining his wife in the Silent Temple.

...who was Eytheria? Her father always waxed on how much Tiana reminded him of her. His spark of light. Was she...

Jreen wasn't the first to call her aasimar. Angel-blooded. As tieflings were for fiends, they were for the celestials. Trasal too on their first journeys, her denials as insistent even then. Much as her father himself; she was human, that was all there was to it. Pale enough to catch the light at times, he always claimed. And her father wouldn't lie to her. Yet she wasn't foolish. The doubt always itched at the back of her mind.

Her father certainly wasn't angel-blooded, she was certain of that much. But Eytheria...perhaps. 

But no. Her father was an honest man. And if he did lie, he had reason for it.

She sighed, leaning back on her hands, judging how far she could gaze. Perhaps two, three miles before the two lands merged into an indistinguishable fog. Cairon couldn't help but to speak on them during their ascent. Dothion, the land they arrived in, and Shurrock, the land overhead. That, the land of lush forests and deep caverns carefully drawn upon, by carefully regimented and agreed-upon ways and means so as to ensure its continued well-being, as befitted these so-called Twin Paradises. And this, the land where raw materials were transformed into useful goods and products, sold fairly by individuals for the well-being of society as a whole. A well-balanced, well-ordered system, if foreign to her.

It was dark as night now. Her perch lit from the flame being kept in the tunnel, but the only light across the land ahead from fires lit above and below, glittering and shimmering like stars. Giving her the sense of floating weightlessly in the midst of a night sky. She pulled her glove off, holding her hand before her face in the dark. Calloused and scratched from years of fieldwork and bladework, as pale as the rest of her. Did she glow? Or was she merely catching the light behind her? She couldn't tell.

"...'ey. What're you lookin' at?" Cathra eased over cautiously, tying a rope around her own waist behind her.

"Oh...nothing." Pulling her glove back on suddenly, she looked up, nodding to the spot at her side. "Enjoying the view, I suppose. It's like nothing I've ever seen."

"Mmph." Taking a seat, Cathra sat a bit too quickly, bouncing a bit and gripping at her safety line with a sharp gasp.

Reaching for her arm, Tiana guided her more carefully into place. "Be wary. It is still a strange land."

"...yeah. Strange." Her color slowly started to return, her breath back under control. "...was Celestia anything like this?"

"Mm. In a sense, I suppose. Though our view didn't look over land, but rather the Silver Sea. And, of course, it was only a single land."

"Right, right. Sounds...sounds nice. Never been so high up before m'self...feels like we're perched on th'Spire." After a short laugh, Cathra fell quiet, wringing her hands together. "So...you plannin' on goin' after that dragon later, or...or somethin'?"

"Hm? Oh...if the fates wish it, but...I don't know. I'd be surprised if so. I was blessed enough to merely get a glimpse of it."

"Really?" She chuckled, leaning back carefully on her arms. "Excited as you were, figured y'might take off across the field to try an' run it down."

"I-" Tiana grumbled, arms wrapping around herself. "I was not...it was a surprise. A wondrous surprise."

"Aye, it was. An' y'deserved t'celebrate it! 'm not jokin' 'bout it or anythin', Blondie. Not teasin' you for once, all right? Y'berk." Cathra snorted, rolling her eyes.

Sighing, Tiana nodded, managing a hint of a smile to Cathra. "All right. If you say." Her smile twitched a bit, as she let out the tiniest chuckle. "And...perhaps it will make itself known again. I would certainly not object. It was a great honor, and a great omen. Chronepsis...I think it was a sign that he smiles on me. On us." Pulling her legs up, she rested her chin on her knees, fiddling with the edges of her pant legs as she stared at the ground below. "It's...auspicious."

"...auspicious. Yeah, maybe." Cathra grunted, leaning forward again, mirroring Tiana, heels perched on the edge of the stone. She chewed her lip, watching Tiana quietly, screwing her brow up as she warred in her head over what to say.

"...are you all right, Cathra?" Tiana canted her head in the sudden silence, noting the signs of anxiety across her face. "Do you need to speak on something?"

"Huh? Oh...oh, aye. 'm fine. I jus'..." She sighed, staring back to the horizon. "Y'know, I...I saw you sittin' out here alone. An'...y'know...you've helped me a lot lately with...with feelings an' junk. Thought...maybe...you needed some kinda feelings-help y'rself."

Silently, Tiana let out a quiet breath, turning back to the landscape ahead. Cathra didn't break the silence, merely choosing to sit beside her and watch out with her at the stairs' edge.

It was nearly a minute's span before she did speak, shaking her head. "My concerns are my own. I needn't trouble another with them. It is my responsibility to look to myself."

After a moment, Cathra replied just as quiet, staring off towards the lanterns of Yeoman. "Pfah. Bar that rot, Ti'. You, Jazaka, Cairon, y'all but dragged all this out me, but you get t'keep yours all sealed in? That seem just t'you? Because it ain't seem just t'me. Seems more barmy."

"...this isn't about justice. It's about...it's about a choice."

"Mine wasn't? Hey, y'don't trust me, that's fine." Cathra couldn't help but snarl a bit, but she held herself back from more, eyes closed. "...Jus'...if you don't trust me, give me the respect of sayin' so. Don't hide it behind all this."

"It's not-" Tiana closed her own eyes, letting the baiting roll off her. "I can see what you're doing, Cathra. And it won't work."

Glancing aside to her, Cathra's mouth quirked slightly as she let out a quiet snort, glad to have been misunderstood. "...aye. Well...it would've worked on Cairon. Fine. Don't say nothin'. That's...yeah, that's your choice. But...I mean...sometimes sayin' somethin' does...sometimes it helps. Maybe not t'me, but...maybe find someone t'talk to. Maybe Trasal; you two are like...well, like me an' Cai'. Without all th'...you know." She snickered. "Or maybe Jazaka. She's...she's good at all this junk. Better'n me. She could...I dunno. Jus'...don't let things break you, huh? It's..." At a loss for more, Cathra trailed off, sighing through her nose.

Tiana didn't respond at first, merely gripping her journal as she turned Cathra's words over in her mind. More silence passed by, until finally she broke through it. "I...I'll think on it. I appreciate the concern, Cathra, but truly, I am fine. My thoughts are...are no great matter." She did her best to smile, though even Cathra could tell it was forced.

"...if y'say so. Y'mind if I jus'...sit, then? 's a nice night."

"...no. No, as you'd like."

Eventually, they returned to the tunnel, to sleep. But until then, they sat in contemplative silence, the only noise the flutter of insect wings about the stair.

Chapter Text

Personal diary of Ondrild, professor of mechanology at the University of Automata. 

Zenith 17, Hashkar 127

Day 21, hour 7 of Modron March

Approximately 850 miles covered since the March begun.

As of this morning, the March has inflicted its first recorded sapient fatality since the tramplings at Automata. An itinerant human paladin, apparently a native or guest of the nearby town of Molybdos judging by his route, was swiftly killed by two tridrone soldiers during an attempt at conversing with one of the March's hierarch modrons that took an unfortunately physical direction. It seems that this individual — whose name I, to my regret, did not manage to get before his passing — wished to express concern as to the March's off-schedule appearance and its impact upon the Greater Good. As has been the case for all individuals of no apparent authority or significance since departing Automata, he was initially ignored. Upon trying to push his way closer, he was apparently judged a threat, and speared simultaneously by two tridrone attendants. He collapsed in an instant, his lower half pulverized by the passing March before his remains could be retrieved.

Celeste pulled his body aside before it could be further damaged, though she was clearly struck by the incident. As was I; it troubles me even now to recall the scene. What remained of the individual's gear offered no aid in identifying the anonymous planeswalker-knight. He seemed to be in service to Marduk, but that is of course no aid to identification in Abellio, given the Power's realm so nearby. Davis withdrew to Molybdos to seek one who may have known him, while Celeste and myself stood watch over his body.

Night is currently sweeping across the land; from my current vantage point, the Orb of Day and Night waxes gibbous, and darkness should be falling upon us within the half-hour. While deaths are to be expected about the March, to suffer one in Arcadia still strikes me. Increasingly, the aggressive behavior of the modrons makes itself clear, and it concerns me what this may presage; what impact it may have on the Multiverse, and what it may merely be a symptom of. Other sages alongside the March whom I have spoken with seem to devote their focus to spinning wild, fanciful explanations or theories, with little grounding behind them nor care to discover it; a common flaw in many sages I've encountered, especially in the field, but especially frustrating in the wake of such a tragedy. I and my assistants have thus devoted ourselves instead to recording all we can of this March, that we may determine the truth later. Or, to admit our potential fate, that those to whom our notes pass may be able to do so. 

Given that following the progress of the March into Bytopia is infeasible, upon our arrival at Tradegate I shall be purchasing a mimir with which to record our further observations. While normally I find these constructs irritating and loathsome, Celeste has pointed out that such a device stands the best chance of surviving whatever trials or hazards we may face going forward; far better than parchment, to be sure. Our budget for this expedition should more than cover one enchanted strongly enough to resist even the most severe conditions; we can only hope that our work will provide some worth to someone someday in equal measure.

Addendum:

Celeste has completed her astronomical calculations, and has determined that nightfall tonight has fallen 13 seconds earlier than it should have. A small discrepancy, yet given the renown stability and consistency of the Orb of Day and Night, this does still seem troublesome and worthy of note. Yet unclear if there is any causal link between this discrepancy and the myriad questions about this March.

Chapter Text

The first of Bravura, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Cairon sat up, stretching out as he drifted back into wakefulness. The scent of coffee wafted about him, helping to banish the sleep from his thoughts, but from Jreen's muttered curses, it seemed things weren't going quite right with it.

"Mmph...somethin' wrong?" He looked across the tunnel, careful not to wake up the others. Besides their group, a dozen or so other travelers laid across the tunnel on ceiling or floor.

Cairon chose not to look at the ceiling ones too closely. Too unsettling.

"Oh!" Jreen looked over, wincing as he lowered his voice. "Oh. Good morning, Cairon. Jreen is trying to make coffee, but stupid water will not absorb enough heat. Is not able to hold as much Positive this high, Jreen thinks. Perhaps because less gravity means Positive leeches from water faster? Jreen would have to test to be sure. But means coffee is not brewing right. Hmph."

"Huh..." Heading to his side, Cairon took a seat beside Jreen, staring at his glassware. "...'zat have anythin' to do with th'air? 'cause...uh...you said Positive is life energy, right? So...'zat why it's harder t'breathe?"

Jreen's eyebrows perk as he glanced across to Cairon, snickering. "Good! Jreen was thinking just that, in fact. Cairon is learning!"

"Ah...thanks, pal." He laughed, cheeks darkening. "Just been...tryin' to pay more attention, y'know? Even been readin' a little between th'plane books."

Jreen wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him tight. "Good! Cairon is best lab assistant." Shoving a beaker of weak coffee at him, he grinned. "Drink this."

Looking back to him, Cairon sighed, gulping it down. "...egh. 's all...sour an' gritty, aye. This is jus' disappointin'."

"New fact to research, at least! But yes, Jreen is annoyed. Ah well." He sighed, flinging the thin brew out the tunnel entrance unthinkingly. He watched as it bobbed up and down in the midspace between the two lands, nudged about by the breeze, as he laughed. "Oh, yes. Jreen forgot."

"...so you were just gonna let it splash on someone down below?"

"Would disperse by then! Probably." Rinsing and packing his glassware, he waved to the others slowly awakening from the conversation, careful to put each piece in its perfectly-carved and padded spot.

"Mmmmph...and what are you two squawking about this early, hmm?" Jazaka stretched out enwrapped in her blankets, which did not do near as much as she'd like to keep out the night chill. Still feeling logy, she was not looking forward to the coming walk.

"Ah...Jreen was tryin' to make some coffee, but it wasn't workin' out. We're too high or somethin'?"

"...mm." Grumbling, she sat herself up as best she could manage, still holding the blankets around herself. "Is there any chance there's any other warm meals in the works before we go, then?"

Nodding in understanding, Cairon smiled, digging through his bag. "I'll find y'somethin', no worries. Don't want y'fallin' asleep on th'way down."

"Mm...thank you." Forcing her eyes to stay open was a struggle, but she made her best effort at it, yawning wide and gazing out at the brightening land.

Each step down the stairs brought a slight wince from Jazaka, the stone still holding the cold of night. She'd wrapped her feet for this, but the thin linens did little to hold back the cold. Still, though, the morning began to warm, at least; she pulled in as much air as she could as they walked down the pillar's stairs, sipping at her skin of tea and thankful for Trasal's magic. And also for Jreen's bulk and heat, keeping near him as the wind whipped harder and harder.

He wrapped an arm around her, and she glanced up gratefully, frills flattening against her head as she muttered in Draconic. "<Thank you.>"

"<Jazaka really ought to learn to grow fur. Jreen could help with that if Jazaka likes. Could probably make something.>"

She snorted, grumbling teasingly. "<I'll consider it. But I think instead I'll see about purchasing a hot water bottle. Much less burdensome. And the grooming; I can hardly imagine how you manage it.>"

"<Jreen brushes out every night. Not too difficult. Harder since Jreen's fur turned white; needs to wash more. Twice a week now. But not that bad!>"

"<If you say so. I'll consider it.>" She glanced to Jreen, raising a brow playfully. "<But I will promise nothing.>" She grumbled, wrapping her own arm around Jreen's waist. "<Are we very near the ground? Can you see what's below yet?>"

Peering over the edge, Jreen's ears perked in interest. "<Ah...some kind of building is near bottom. Very not far now. Only minutes? Maybe faster; Jreen feels like group is speeding up. Downstairs much better than upstairs!>"

"<Yes, it certainly seems so. The air seems to be warmer too? Though still not quite as much as I'd like.>"

"<Ah, yes; storm nearby, is chilly. But perhaps building will have fire.>"

"And what are you two discussing so intently, hm?" Stepping beside the two, Trasal grinned, cane tapping against the snow. "I can't help but be curious."

Jazaka glanced towards him, snorting. "We're discussing how you manage to always look as though you're posing for a portrait. It's quite the talent."

He scoffed, holding his head high in a noble pose. "Good breeding, nothing more." As Jreen laughed, he paused, looking back towards Jazaka in realization. "And just how would you know, then?"

Jazaka jerked her head, nudging Trasal's shoulder. "A lucky guess. Now, how long is it again that we'll be walking from here to this sage's tower?"

"We should be there before the end of the day, I believe. A brisk journey, and then perhaps some real answers on all this."

Nodding absently, Jazaka looked up to Jreen, letting him go. "I appreciate this, but I need to speak with Trasal. Would you mind?"

"Ah! Not at all. Jreen is glad Jreen could help Jazaka." He wheezed and snorted, stepping ahead briskly. "And think about Jreen's offer!"

"Offer?"

Jazaka sighed, snorting. "Nothing, nothing. A shared joke. Anyway. I wished to ask; we haven't discussed your...omens in some days."

"Mm." Glancing off towards Tiana at the fore, he nodded slowly. "No, we haven't. I haven't seen much of them since leaving Broadshire, though. You? Has your...patron offered any guidance?"

"Not in some time either. Which I take as a good sign; nothing has yet diverted me, so my course is still right, it seems. I'm considering asking this sage more on the topic, though, and I wanted to hear your thoughts. I thought you'd probably be asking some yourself on the subject; if we spoke together, it could save time."

He smiled, bowing his head towards he. "A welcome idea. Though I must ask...why the secrecy? Is it really so important that the others don't know of your patron?"

"...I don't know." With a grunt, she shrugged. "I don't know. I just feel...I haven't even told Tiana much in the way of detail. I worry about others knowing about it, about word spreading. About the danger."

"Danger?"

"To me. To...it. I'm meant to be its...representative, this entity. And I don't know what that means. But I know that it at least means protecting it. And if word spread that something this ancient was...attached to me? That..." She sighed, letting out a long, low snort. "I don't know who or what might be interested in that. But I can't imagine it would be any good for me. Or for it. I don't even know its name, Trasal. This being is so alien, so other, so powerful, and...and yet I pity it. It was alone for so long..."

As Jazaka trailed off, Trasal rested his hand on her shoulder. "Tiana told me you promised to tell her more about it. Perhaps once we reach the inn, you could share your story with all six of us."

She kept silent, gripping her hanbo tighter, claws tapping against it in an irregular pattern.

"You can trust us. You know that, Jazaka. It's been a long month, but we've passed this month together. Cairon and Cathra, they've gone through so much emotional pain, but we've been there for them. Jreen has had troubles of all sorts, but he's told me stories of the Bloodfeather, of Gorellik, that I would never speak word of beyond our little group. And Tiana? She's closed, but she's shared more in these four weeks than I've seen her share in two years."

Jazaka quietly considered his words, her cloudy eyes still managing to lock onto his own, until finally, she let out a sigh that sounded at least somewhat exaggerated in its reluctance, her frills fluttering softly. "Fine, fine, I suppose you do have a point." She continued, her tone a bit more sincere, "And I do have to admit, it...would be nice to share. The only other person who knows, I haven't seen in months-"

"...Other person, you say?"

Rolling her eyes, Jazaka gave him an unamused snort. "If I'm to tell this story, at least let me tell it to everyone, hm? You'll learn the details with everyone else."

"Fair, fair." Chuckling, he peered down the stairs, linking arms carefully with Jazaka. "Ah, and...here we are, at the base. Careful now, watch your step."

"Ah, thank you." Stepping off the stone, Jazaka took a deep breath, grateful for the feel of grass under her feet. "One more stage completed. And hopefully we won't have further climbing for...quite some time to come."

"From your mouth to the Furies' ears." Tilting his head towards her, he smirked. "One thing; will our storytelling tonight also include the nature of this private conversation you'd had with the Trader? I think I can guess at its topic, but I'm sure it would give everyone some relief to know why you'd stayed behind for a spell."

Letting out a puff of air, Jazaka smirked to Trasal. "I'd have no reason to keep it quiet then...so yes, that does seem fair. Again, I'm so very sorry for that, Trasal. I should've realized, but I couldn't ignore the opportunity."

"No, no, I understand. You saw a chance, and you took it. You are forgiven by me. And by them too, I'm sure; I just think knowing why would help ease their worries."

Frills fluttering, Jazaka jerked her head sharply. "We can talk more about it later. Let's see if they do have a fire burning after all, Trasal. I could do with some warming before anything more; otherwise I might just fall asleep in the middle of my story. And I'm not nearly old enough for that."

"'Last Chance Inn'. Oddly threatening for an Upper Plane." Trasal chuckled slightly at the humble sign inscribed above the building's entryway, the last of the six to step in. Joining the rest by the fireplace, he settled his pack at his side, grateful for the opportunity to sit; one would be surprised how exhausting walking down a massive staircase could be. Requesting a simple mushroom hash for his own meal, he let himself relax, feeling the warmth of the fire, only half-listening to the conversation passing between his friends. The rustic spot was comforting, reminiscent of his days before joining the Inquisition of the Furies. Or perhaps that was simply his mind wandering to his own past after his discussion with Jazaka. 

Hardly noticing as his food was set beside him, he glanced to the worker; a fairly young gnome with shock-green hair, working a family job, he gathered from the look of the keeper. A bit of playful yet half-hearted flirting and a generous gratuity later, and he was nudging the hash about as he thought, punctuated by the occasional bite. Always a favorite of his, it was hard to imagine how Bytopian mushrooms could manage to be better fresh, yet they surely were. As the earthy morsels seemed to dissolve in his mouth, he watched the rest; they offered the occasional glance his way, clearly concerned on how little he seemed to be speaking, but respectful enough not to press on the matter. Hardly the silent sort, he would be the first to admit; it must have them quite worried. With a smile, he nodded to the lot, hoping to reassure them, though his thoughts still dwelled on his own past.

His meal half-done, his reverie was broken on hearing Jazaka speak his name. "-Trasal convinced me I ought to speak some. Isn't that correct, Trasal?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say convinced. I simply brought you to a realization you would've eventually come to yourself, friend." He chuckled, though Jazaka was clearly unamused. 

With a dismissive snort, she looked back to the rest as she basked in the warmth of the flame. "I've been keeping secrets from you all, he pointed out to me. Or...no, I suppose 'secrets' isn't the best term for it. I've been quiet on my past in a way you all have not; I haven't shared as much as you all deserve. He encouraged me to share with you all, and it helped me to realize that sharing may be best for myself and for all of you."

"Eh?" Cairon leaned forward. "I mean...aye, y'haven't spoken much 'bout where you came from an' all, but that's your choice. If y'don't want to..." He shrugged, popping a slaad eye into his mouth. "But if y'wanna share it, yeah, I'd like t'hear it."

Jazaka's frills fluttered slightly as she let out a quiet sigh, giving a hint of a smile towards Cairon and Cathra both. "Then I ought to start before my nerve fails me. So...this story starts last summer..."

Chapter Text

The seventeenth of Flocking, in the 126th year of Factol Hashkar

Adjusting her pack over her shoulder, Jazaka grinned as she took in the humble ship resting in the dock before her, taking in a deep breath and delighting in the scent of water on the air; it might not be quite the same as the marshlands where she called home so recently, but it was near enough, at least. This early in the day, the cool light from the sky overhead was hardly anything on her scales. And yet it felt like she was basking in the warmest day of Zenith, so energized she felt at what was to come.

It wasn't so long ago that she'd finished her schooling in the healing arts. Medical academies were rare in the Outlands, so many preferring the faster, simpler mystical forms of healing to the physical, the tangible, and so it had taken her months to find one willing to take her on. She'd done her fair share of studying, apprenticing, and even practicing the craft on the occasional minor injury or illness. But a city deep within the domain of Semuanya wasn't well-suited for giving her the breadth of experience found by those in more cosmopolitan places; how else was she to learn how to care for mammals, avians, anyone but the reptilians that called the Bog home. Weeks more after that merely to travel to the school, nestled deep in the fifth ring, far and away from the most common caravan routes; truly, from most anything but the astral streakers that carried post across the plane. And years after that to complete her studies to their satisfaction and her own.

It was coming to a head. She had achieved her graduation, and after just a scant few days on the water, she'd be at the coastal town of Annabally, apprenticing under the local healer and putting her education to practice in preparation for taking his place upon his soon-to-come retirement.

With another deep breath, she fell in line with her fellow passengers, looking over the other travelers joining her on this voyage. As she watched, her mind wandered, wondering where each might be stopping themselves; Annabally was merely the next stop on this vessel's regular travel around the Outlands' central sea, and its course would take it around the full coast over the next nine months, and again, and again. What must that experience be for its crew as well? The same places, but so many different people, so many different stories. 

She couldn't help but wonder; it was more than just a desire to learn that took her beyond the Bog, after all. A wanderlust had always burned in her heart; she'd always been curious about the ways of others as much as the functioning of their bodies. So many stories out there, so many tales to tell, to hear, to experience. But she was a grounded sort, and couldn't even imagine not having a place of her own to come back to. Not that she was the sort of homebody her sisters were; she wouldn't have uprooted herself three rings away just for study if she was. But it was while always knowing she'd eventually have somewhere to settle herself for good. And what better place than a town with so many travelers always making their way through?

Showing the attendant her stamped pass, she smiled to him as she was nodded through, ascending the gangplank and finding her way to her berth. Dropping her pack in the corner, she collapsed onto the surprisingly-comfortable bed, letting her eyes fall closed as the adrenaline of this final step began to fade. In minutes, she was fast asleep, frill fluttering and tail twitching as formless dreams cradled her mind.

The nineteenth of Flocking, in the 126th year of Factol Hashkar

As the midday bells rang on the third day of her journey across the water, Jazaka set her book aside, her stomach almost as reliable a clock itself. She'd been lucky to have the chance to purchase a solid supply of novels before coming aboard; the looks she always received as a lizard purchasing mammal romance always brought her frill to standing, but she wasn't going to deny herself for a passing awkward moment from a person she'd never see again.

Still, she could return to it after. Making her way to the mess, she took a clean plate and looked over the day's selection. Largely the same as the last, of course — only so much room in a ship's stores after all. Like before, it wasn't the most amazing food, but it was well enough. Taking some salted fish and some limp mixed vegetables, she settled in, grinning to the temporary friends she'd already made; a married couple looking to settle with their newborn in a better town than the one they'd left behind. Smiling to them, she had a pleasant chirp in her tone as she spoke between bites of filleted trout.

"And good day to you all."

"Ah!" Looking up from her nursing child, Kirstina offered Jazaka a grin, as did her wife, Violet, beside her. "I hadn't heard you approach, Jazaka."

"Well, you were occupied." She snorted quietly, her frills twitching. And how is the little one today?"

Violet smiled down to him, stroking the wisps of hair on his head. "Better today. He could hardly sleep last night. Colic, I think."

"I hope." Kirstina held him close, cradling him in her arm as he nursed quietly. As his arm fell limp beside himself and his eyelids fluttered, she pulled him to her lap, pulling her tunic back into place. "He's doing much better today, but...I don't know."

Looking the child over, Jazaka set her fork down, shifting a bit nearer. "May I?" Though unsure for a moment, Kirstina smiled again to her, holding her child out for her. Carefully, Jazaka cradled the small human as she'd seen his mother do these last few days, as they both watched quietly. She'd read much on mammal young, but seeing one was another thing entirely. Small and shriveled, a bundle of heat and scent; she honestly wasn't sure what it was they found cute in their children, but they'd likely say the same for hatchlings, she imagined.

Brushing the relatively cool skin of her hand against the child's forehead, she cocked her head and closed her eyes, thinking back to the carefully heated stones of her training.

"Is he usually as calm as this during the day?"

"Mm...usually." Violet nodded, beaming at her child as Jazaka gently returned him to Kirstina's arms. "Which is why I think Tina is so worried."

"I wouldn't be." With a slight bow of her head, Jazaka smiled to Kirstina, hands crossed in her lap. "If he takes a fever or chill, or begins showing other signs of sick, bring him to me; I'll be sure to see him, here or in the city. But otherwise I think Violet's right. This one seems healthy as he could be."

Sighing in relief, Kirstina gave a half-smile in response, rocking him gently almost by habit. "Thank you, friend. It's a weight gone to know that."

Dismissing her with a wave of her hand, Jazaka scoffed. "Just my job, hm? But I'm-"

Before she could say more, a clatter from the stairs drew all their attention. Rushing down, a crewmember — a reptilian who she wasn't ashamed to admit caught her eye now and then, a well-muscled, orange-scaled man with a prominent fringe about his head and a gentle laugh — pushed past the other passengers, making a beeline for her.

"You're...you're the healer, yes? Jazaka?"

A question like that was never a good sign. Standing, she nodded briskly. "What happened?"

"On deck. Lyn, one of the crew, she's hurt. Here." Stumbling back, he paused just long enough to be sure Jazaka was in step behind him, before pressing onward towards the stairs. Along the way, he kept talking, watching every so often to make sure she hadn't fallen behind. "Windstorm stirred up out of nowhere. Gust caught a sail, the mast knocked her into a loose box hook. Caught her in the side. Made sure they didn't pull it free yet, but it's in deep."

Hissing through her teeth, Jazaka nodded again, imagining the pain such a wound would bring. "Just now?"

"Less than a minute ago." Bursting onto the deck, he moved briskly across the rocking boat with grace, the shift in weather sending it to and fro. Not nearly as easy on her feet in these conditions, Jazaka gripped the edge of the doorway, all but crawling as she inched forward quick as she could manage.

In moments, she reached the woman's side; pale, but not too pale. Her shirt was slick with blood, but not enough to be worrying.

"Need a knife from someone!" Not taking her eyes off her patient, she stroked her face carefully, relieved to see her conscious yet. As someone pressed a knife into her free hand, she began to carefully slice the cloth free about the wound, cursing under her breath at every pitch of the deck beneath her. Thoughts of the knife slipping at a sudden buck, plunging itself into her right next to the hook, wouldn't leave her mind. But with steady hand — steadier than she thought she was capable — she managed to expose the wound. The hook was lodged tight, thankfully; blood oozed about it, but only the barest amount. Jazaka was certain it must hurt like the acid of Sess'innek, but she was lucky.

Looking quickly to her side, seeing that same orange-scaled crewmember hovering about, she jerked her head back towards the stairs below. "Go get my pack from my room. Second on the right."

With a brisk nod, he scrambled off below, as Jazaka looked back to the injured human.

"It's all right. You'll be all right, dear. What's your name?"

Jazaka knew it, of course, but it was important to get the woman's mind focused. With a moment of confusion, she tried to speak, but a sudden rocking of the boat brought a hiss of pain from her. Patiently, Jazaka massaged her hand, keeping her attention on the now.

"...Lyn."

"All right, Lyn. I'm Jazaka. I want you to keep yourself calm, all right? I'll take care of you; I've seen people pull through from much worse than this." In the rush of the moment, Jazaka wasn't sure how true that was, but she knew how important confidence in your healer was. She only hoped Lyn didn't notice the slight crack in her voice.

Squeezing her hand back, she nodded, doing her best to smile. "Funny...funny story in a month or two, eh?"

"Oh, certainly. You'll be talking about this in taverns for years, I'm sure." 

She laughed quietly, but even that was enough to bring a wince from her; on instinct, she tried to bring her hand to the wound, but Jazaka kept firm grip.

With eyes locked with hers, Jazaka smiled. "How long have you worked on this ship, Lyn?"

"Mmph..." She blinked, trying to bring the number to mind. "Tw...no...three years now."

"Quite the tenure." Keeping her smile as steady as she could, Jazaka let a stream of Draconic curses flow in her head; what was taking that lizard so long? "This is my first voyage, myself. Are they all quite so memorable?"

Holding back her laughter this time, Lyn shook her head. "Nah. Guess we...we wanted to give you...a spot of excitement."

"Well, you certainly did that."

At the sound of scrambling talons against wood, she glanced aside, grabbing her bag without a word. With eyes keeping to Lyn, she began pulling out all she needed by memory; she'd packed and unpacked it so often, she knew well everything she had by touch alone.. "We'll get you taken care of in just a bit, Lyn. Hold her steady as you can," she said quickly to the other crewmember. He nodded, crouching himself as he gripped her by the shoulders. Jazaka hovered her hand over the hook, glad for no barbs. Seconds ticked away as she waited for the ship to steady enough, until with a single smooth tug, she pulled the hook free, appraising quick as she could. Not even a wince from Lyn, it wasn't snagged on any tissue. It came smooth; wasn't lodged in a bone either. No blood spurting; it didn't hit an artery. No scent but blood; it didn't puncture her digestive tract. She tried to call to mind where humans kept their organs, but her mind was too awash with nerves to bring much. The kidney was near there, wasn't it? And she knew they were notoriously fragile in humans. She gave the hook a quick smell; no scent of urine, so it was probably missed too, but she wasn't sure. No bile, but she couldn't even recall which side the liver was on.

All this rushed through her mind in a handful of moments before she tossed the hook away. Barely bleeding still, which was good for Lyn in the long term, but not so much in the short term; she'd need to clean. Splashing some alcohol onto a bundle of gauze, she met Lyn's eyes again. "Now, this will hurt worse than the hook, but we need to keep this from getting infected. We don't want you cracking your teeth or biting your tongue, so I want you to bite down on this," she added, as she set a leather strap in her mouth. "Just tell me when you're ready."

Taking a quick inhale through her mouth, she nodded, strangling a scream as Jazaka pressed the soaked cloth to the wound, her entire body going tense and rigid. She pulled the cloth away quickly, giving her a few moments to relax after. The reptilian looked on in concern, as did the rest of the crew around them, but Jazaka kept her face well enough, despite the screaming still echoing in her own mind.

"You're all right, Lyn. It's all right. Breathe." Splashing the wound with clean water, she rinsed the alcohol away best she could, as the color began to return to Lyn's face. Already shrinking on itself with the hook removed, the wound looked barely the size of a pea now. She wouldn't need stitches, just bandaging — quickly taken care of.

"...there." Letting out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Jazaka grinned to Lyn. "You'll be all right now. Wash it and bandage it again three times a day. In clean water; boil it first, and let it cool. It should heal fine on its own in a few days. If it doesn't, or if you start to feel any more pain or burning, see another healer first chance you get. Or a cleric, if you can." Nodding with a smile, Lyn tried to stand, letting out the barest squeak of pain before Jazaka and her crewmate both helped her to her feet. "Here, we'll help you to your cabin. Move as little as you can for the next few days; let the wound heal. And that includes work."

"Right...right. Thank you, Jazaka." Jazaka's heart fluttered as Lyn smiled in pure relief. With the stress of the situation done, everything that just happened finally sunk in for her. She'd helped someone. She hadn't frozen up, hadn't hurt her; it was an emergency, and she kept calm, and someone came away from it better than they started. She beamed as they made their way to the crew bunks, helping Lyn down gently.

"Get some sleep. Good for the body. I'll check on the wound again when you wake."

Nodding, Lyn already seemed near to drifting off as the adrenaline faded from her system just as quickly; the bunk still swayed under their feet, sending Jazaka to the wall to steady herself, but for Lyn it seemed to do little more than usher her even more quickly along into slumber.

"Thank you, ma'am."

She'd almost forgotten he was there. Snorting sharply, Jazaka rolled her eyes, snickering. "I'm not near old enough to be a 'ma'am'. Jazaka's fine. I never got your name, though."

"Ashear." He smiled somewhat bashfully, sending Jazaka's frills fluttering, the corner of her own mouth twitching.

"Well, Ashear, I'm glad to have been of help." Crouching besides Lyn's bunk, the woman already off to sleep, Jazaka gently stroked the sweat-matted hair from her face. "It could've been much worse."

"Aye. We ought have a healer aboard, truly..."

Looking back to Ashear, Jazaka was oddly tempted to say something on that as he peered down to his fellow crew, but...no, it was silly. Why did that thought flit through her mind when she was apprenticed already?

...well, she knew why, she admitted, gazing over his well-muscled arms for a moment before tearing herself away with a bashful smile. But she wasn't that flighty.

She stood straight once more, smoothing the wrinkles from her robe. "You certainly should. I'm shocked you don't already; this can't be the safest of lives. Or even a cleric, at least." Another sharp snort as she made her way to the door, pausing for a moment at it. She could at least indulge herself, hm? As much as it might be her own adrenaline talking.

"...would you be free this evening? Perhaps we could talk more about what this ship needs over dinner."

With a shocked blink, he chuckled, mouth quirked. "...aye, I ought to be. I'll see you at the mess?"

"You'd better." Her frills fluttered again as she made her way out, making an effort to brush her hips against his  with a smile as she started back to her own cabin. 

She was halfway there when a realization hit her; Sess'innek be damned, she left her bag on the deck! With all this rocking, she hoped it hadn't been lost. Walking briskly back up onto the deck, she eased herself out, noting the storm getting even worse. The crew glanced to her, too relieved about everything (and too busy keeping the ship together, frankly) to harry her as she cautiously stepped along the wall; her bag had slid to the corner, it looked like, thankfully nestled in a small alcove just before the railing.

Snatching it up in both hands, she pulled it over her shoulder, with just enough time to sigh in relief before the ground beneath her seemed to fall away. The entire ship listed to the side so deeply, she could see the lake's surface ahead of her — no, below her, she knew, though her mind wouldn't accept that. Spinning in place, she scrabbled against the wood as she slid towards the edge, but she found no grip. Her talons caught in the seam between two planks, but only for long enough to let the wind pitch her against the railing, slamming the back of her head and sending stars across her vision.

And as the wind howled and whipped around her, she fell over the edge. The cold water of the lake soaked through her robes and sapped heat from her almost instantly; the shock of it made her gasp, air bubbling out from her snout. She tried to swim, tried to make her way up, but between the blow to her head and the weight of her clothes, she could hardly move.

Her vision began to fade, black creeping in from the edges and nothing but the shimmer of light overhead. Her chest burned; even lizardfolk couldn't hold their breath forever, especially not with barely any to hold. She fought against it as long as she could, but eventually her body betrayed her; her lungs gasped for air and found only near-freezing water, stunning her body even further. Her limbs grew heavy, her thoughts slowing; she tried to shrug off her robes, but she couldn't manage even that much.

Absently, a part of her mind wondered how deep this lake was, what other people must have sunk to their death here...and if she'd have a chance to meet them before being ushered on to Semuanya.

That was her last thought before the darkness took her.

Chapter Text

Eyes wide, Cairon stared at Jazaka, his meal long since having cooled. She fell quiet, sipping at her tea and trying to find the right way to continue. Though she couldn't help but revel a bit in the suspense she'd left him with, doing her best to keep a straight face and not burst into a grin at his pained frustration from the pause. Nothing wrong with a bit of teasing, was there...?

"Mm; I'm feeling weary. Perhaps I should retire for the night...continue tomorrow?"

"No!" To Jazaka's surprise, the outburst came not from Cairon, but from Cathra, leaning forward on the table with narrowed eyes. "Y'wouldn't dare that, lizard-butt. Y'can't just stop there; 's not even a funny joke."

Snorting, Jazaka sipped a bit more. "I didn't think you'd be this interested in my past. Or am I just that good a storyteller?"

"...both." She huffed, falling back against her chair; with a snicker, Cairon rubbed her shoulder, and Cathra leaned against him just slightly, no less annoyed.

"Yes, Cathra is correct, Jreen is fascinated! And Jreen did not know Jazaka knew so much about anatomy. Why did Jazaka never tell Jreen? Jreen would've done even more science with Jazaka!"

Jazaka raised her brow to Jreen, muzzle hidden behind her mug.

"...Jreen supposes Jreen has answered Jreen's question." Laughing, he snarfed down a quick bite of food with a snap of his jaws, swallowing it straight down. "Too late. Jreen has second lab assistant now."

Taking a deep breath, she sat back, letting her mug strike the table with a mild clatter. "If I must."

Cairon smirked. "But you'd better finish your story before y'get all caught up in Jreen's science. C'mon, Cathra's right, y'can't just leave it there. So y'fell int' the lake, and then what happened?"

"She clearly survived, if nothing else," Tiana said, that familiar hint of amusement in her eyes. "Unless her story is much more intense than I would expect. I'm certain you'd tell us if you were once resurrected, Jazaka?"

Oddly silent, she tapped her talon against her mug, until finally saying in a quiet voice, "I'm not sure."

"...wha'?" Cathra's eyes opened even wider as she leaned forward once more. "Y'...are y'serious? You might've...really?"

Tiana was near as shocked, and near as curious, but struck silent at the revelation.

"...it should be a little more clear when I continue. In that lake...I still don't know what it is. Or what exactly happened to me. I've always struggled to put it into words...it all happened within my mind, and it was intensely confusing. Honestly, that's why I stopped: to try and figure out how to actually describe it all for the first time." She took in a deep breath and sat straight, letting the air out slowly from her lungs as she thought back to that confusing time.

"...I suppose I'll have to just make my best attempt at it. So...I was sinking into the waters of the lake, barely able to move, and everything was growing darker and darker around me..."

Chapter Text

The nineteenth of Flocking, in the 126th year of Factol Hashkar

Jazaka returned to consciousness, but without sight, without scent, without sound. The lake's water still wrapped around her, and she could feel the heat leeching from her body. Her body did all it could to pull her back to unconsciousness, to drag her mind to the depths along with it, but...something held her in the waking world. All was nothing about her in all directions, leaving her unable to even determine up or down. Her chest burned, and the air escaped her lungs, but she couldn't follow their path; no light, no noise. Water flowed in, but it hardly seemed an issue; something was more pressing than even her impending death.

An itch. A sense. Something reaching to an ancient part of her mind, telling her she was being watched. Appraised.

She couldn't hear her own words, but she spoke them anyway. "Who...who's there?"

There was no response, and yet there was. A whispering, but of concepts, not words. It is befuddled by her, and befuddled by its befuddlement. Existence was nothing but a distant memory suddenly flared back to life.

"...what? I don't...where are you?"

It is above and below. From all about. All about the water, all about her. It is within her, and she within it. And they are all that ever was.

Frustrated by the barrage of thoughts that she could only barely comprehend, she screamed into the void, her silence deafening. "I don't understand! What are you?"

It wasn't, but it will be. But it needs another. It needs one to be.

"...what? I...who? Me? But I'm...nothing. No one."

Nothing is nil. Nothing has no meaning. A person is. It is not a person. But it needs.

"...what? You need what? I don't...what do you want from me? All I wanted to do was...was help people."

Help. It needs help. And she can help it. And through it, she can help others.

She shuddered, feeling her last spark fade. It took all her energy to nod. This was what she wanted, and this was her best chance now. She had to survive, and this was her path. "Tell me what to do."

It needs her to listen. To allow it to speak. Will she?

Fear warred with instinct. She knew this was one of the most significant questions she'd ever been posed, that she was being offered an opportunity that would never come again to anyone; that whatever was communing with her, it was life and death for it as much as it was for her. She had no time to consider, she had to decide now. And so as her life ebbed, she spoke in a mute whisper.

"Yes."

With that word, with her consent given, she was suddenly suffused with the euphoria of two lifes restored, of two paths becoming one, of eternal nothingness becoming endless potential. 

And in the next moment, she felt a pair of strong arms around her waist as her physicality existed once more. She was pulled upwards and broke the surface, the rush of lake air wrapping around her. She gasped for breath, forcing the water from her chest through ancient lizardfolk instinct she'd never had reason to call upon before now — far better equipped to fend off drowning they were than mammals — but her strength was too gone for her to do much of anything else as Ashear hauled her to a rope ladder thrown over the edge of the ship. She knew she was being hauled up, but it was so difficult to focus. Her thoughts were a muddle, everything was so unclear. Rain fell on her, and every droplet seemed to shatter her focus all over again.

Soon, though, the rain stopped and the light around her dimmed. Coughing more fluid from her lungs, her throat rattled as she gulped the moist air. Her mind slowly came to order as air once more flowed into her lungs and through her body, and the sharp noise about her clarified into a word. Her name? Yes, her name.

"-zaka. Jazaka, say something. Come back to me."

The clawed hand on her shoulder shook her lightly, and she batted it away, nodding; slowly opening her eyes, she wiped at the water still clouding them. "I'm...I'm here. I'm here." Her memories slowly fell into place, but they made no more sense now as they did then. But there was definitely something there.

"Oh, thank the powers. Damned Exhilarus weather. Are you..." Ashear trailed off as she continued to swipe and blink; gently, he held her head in place, an orange blur peering into her eyes.

"...Jazaka..." A darker blur passed over the orange cloud hovering above her; she tried to respond, but her voice caught in her throat. "Jazaka, your eyes."

"...what...what about my eyes?" Her heart clenched and her breath came quick.

An arm snaked around her back, and she could feel each individual scale rub against her hide as she was helped up to her feet. Her water-logged robes weighed her down, and every drop splattering against the floor echoed in her skull.

She was led back to her room, and helped to slough her robes to the floor. "I...let me get you some stew. To ease your chill."

"No. No, I don't...I don't need stew. I don't need anything. I just...everything's so loud, I can't...I need to be alone!" Whirling and stumbling away from him, her building panic put an edge into her voice that she regretted as soon as her words snapped out. 

Unsure, Ashear stepped back over the threshold — she could hear his footstep, smell the water dripping from his own clothes — and closed the door behind himself. Jazaka felt her way to the wall; not even bothering to make her way to the bed, she slumped along the wall and slid to the floor. It didn't matter how much she blinked, how much she rubbed the balls of her hands against her eyes; none of it helped. She ran her hands across her skull, ruffling her frills; a gesture that normally brought her comfort, but now brought none.

She sat there in the dark — was it even dark? — terrified and alone.

But...not alone.

A presence touched the back of her mind. It rippled her thoughts like the surface of a still pond. She tried to push it away, yet at the same time she pulled it close. Betrayed and yet intrigued. It was the presence. And its appearance in her inner thoughts brought with it a glowing light, almost blinding to her mind's eye.

She could feel a charge build in the air about her, and in a sudden instant, her mind cleared and the charge rushed clear.

Jazaka was left befuddled, but she could feel a warmth spread in its wake. A comfort that helped to clear her panic, that helped restore the heat that she'd lost-

Wait. 

Oh. No, it wasn't that at all.

The scent of smoke hit her, and she cried out, batting at the orange, flickering glow on her sleeve. In moments, the door burst open. "What happened? I smelled smoke!"

Batting and slapping, she could feel the flame licking at her scales. And with a thought, water began to flow from her hand, extinguishing it in an instant with a hiss of steam.

"...Ah...what are you..." Ashear stared, utterly lost.

"I don't- I couldn't- there was a spark- "

Ashear's nervous energy finally spilled out as uncertain, confused laughter as he stepped up to her, taking her arm. "Well...whatever it was...it seems all right now?"

Jazaka's frills flared in embarrassment as she pulled free, rubbing her forearm and dropping onto her bed. "Yes, it...I suppose it is." She paused, her fear washed away for the moment by...whatever it was that had just happened. "...thank you for coming to my aid. Again, I suppose."

Ashear took a seat beside her, inspecting her arm carefully. "You didn't burn yourself, did you?"

She prodded at the bare hide, finding it tender but uninjured. Shaking her head, she kept her eyes averted, her frills nearly flared. "No...no, it doesn't seem I did." Taking a breath, she set her hand atop his, nudging his arm away even as her fingers brushed against his scales and her frills quivered. "I...I think I ought get some true rest now." The ludicrousness of it all struck her in a rush and she snorted in amusement, flicking her head sharply. The terror of her altered sight still set thick in her chest, but it seemed well lessened. And in the face of that, other anxiety seemed just as ludicrous. "But...perhaps you could return in the morning? For breakfast? I could use a person to talk to, and...I'd rather not eat alone."

With a snort of his own, Ashear squeezed her arm. "If you're sure there's nothing else you need today?"

"No, I just...I just want today to be done. I'm sure you understand."

He let out a sharp bark of laughter, patting her as he stood. "To this degree? Not hardly. But...I'll be here in the morning. You rest well, Jazaka. And if you do need anything tonight, ask the crew for me."

"Ah...I would hate to wake you. I'm sure you have enough work to do when awake as it is."

"Don't fret on that. I insist."

Feeling a lightness, Jazaka flicked her head again, bowing it to him. "Well...then I won't argue the matter. I'll see you- ah...I'll...greet you come morning." Though she laughed quietly, her heart twisted, but the brief spike of fear was brushed aside by his voice.

"Until then, ma'am."

The door closed, and regret struck her out of nowhere. Perhaps she ought have asked him to stay? Laying back in bed, she held her hand before her face; not entirely blind, she saw now. Color enough...and if she held it close enough, she could make out detail to a point. Still, yet...

She rolled onto her side, hoping for sleep to take her quickly.

Dreams came to her more easily than usual, and yet they made far less sense than even they had before. She felt less as the dreamer, and more as the dreamed; as a being moving through the mind, the thoughts of another, inspected and analyzed, pulled along not by her own will but by the existence in which she had been conjured. Unnerving, and yet comforting, for reasons she didn't yet understand. And when the quiet rapping at her door roused her the next morning, she found herself better rested than she could remember in ages.

The shock of her blurred surroundings banished that for a quick moment, but she recovered well enough to find her voice as she called back, "hello? Come in, come in."

The door eased open quietly, a familiar voice speaking in reply. "Ma-...Jazaka? Are you awake?"

"Yes. I think so, at least." Chortling quietly, she slid halfway off the mattress, perched on the edge with tail draping off the far side. "Ashear, yes? It sounds like it."

"Ah...yes. I wanted to check on you." He stepped in, the door swinging shut behind him. "Are you all right? Did you rest well?"

"Well as I could expect. And Lyn?"

"Oh, she's doing much better." Ashear laughed quietly, and Jazaka could almost feel the grin as he beamed. "She wanted to thank you, in fact."

"Oh? I couldn't deny her that, then." Flicking her head, she stood, waving off Ashear's attempts at helping her. "And I should check on her band- oh. Hm."

"If you guide me through it, I can handle that myself." He couldn't help but keep close to her, hand hovering at her arm. "Do you need...can you walk?"

With a snort, Jazaka rolled her eyes. "My feet work fine, if that's what you mean. But I wouldn't mind help navigating the ship."

"Ah...yes. Sorry." Settling his hand on her shoulder, he led her to the door; once beyond, Jazaka trailed her hand along the wall as she kept pace at his side.

"I wish I had something better to thank you with than a shared meal, though," she said, a sardonic lilt to her voice. "And one I'm not even really paying for. Seems hardly enough."

"Thank me? I was just doing my job, Jazaka. I'm the one who should be thanking you. You saved Lyn's life, and look what you suffered for it."

She glanced towards him, frills fluttering. "I saved Lyn's life, and you saved mine. I suppose that makes us even."

"I suppose so." Jazaka could hear his grin, as she felt her breath catch just slightly. "I shouldn't have let you go back out onto the deck, though."

"Oh? I don't recall asking you one way or another." Returning his grin, she reached across to pat his hand. "What's done is done, and I'm confident that my...current state is not anyone's fault. At least, none here. You did all you could, and you did it valiantly, Ashear."

She caught the sound of a quiet chirp as Ashear focused forward, and her frills fluttered once more, amused and delighted that he seemed as taken as she was. But clearing his throat, he quickly changed the subject. "Crew quarters are through here. We're making sure she keeps resting until she's well-healed."

"Good, good." As Ashear held the door open, Jazaka worked her way forward. The darker barracks posed some trouble for her — with so much shadow, she could barely tell where the beds about her were. Ashear, though, kept close to her side, and with only slight stumbling she made her way beside Lyn's bed. Standing silent sentinel beside her, he rested his hand on Jazaka's shoulder, staring down on the both of them with concern glistening in his eyes.

Letting out a quiet snort at Jazaka's approach, the injured sailor smiled up at her, voice cracking slightly as she spoke. "Oh, here's my knight in shinin' armor."

Chuckling under her breath, Jazaka smiled towards her in return, taking her hand gently. "And how do you feel this morning?"

"Better. Pain's still there...not as much though. Not burning where I got stuck; that's good you said, aye?"

"Very good, No infection, it seems. And the pain, is it only around the wound?"

"Aye. Hurts worse when I move...so I'm tryin' not to do that much."

"Good." Jazaka nodded briskly. "The less you move, the faster it'll heal. Now, Ashear's going to help me get a look at it. Is that all right? It will sting a little when we remove the bandage."

"Can't be worse than yesterday, eh?" Another snort, and she nodded. "Go ahead, whatever you need."

"All right. Ashear, do as I say, and be gentle; no need to injure her any worse."

Kneeling beside Jazaka, he laughed, smirking sharply to Lyn as he carefully began unwrapping her bandage. "Don't worry; we won't tell Khalid a word, eh?"

Lyn chuckled, but instantly regretted it, sucking a sharp breath through her teeth. "Ah, he'd faint if he tried to do this, th' lightweight. First sight...nah, first scent of it, even."

Holding back her own amusement, Jazaka carefully talked Ashear through inspecting the wound and washing it clean, glad he'd been listening close the previous night on the need for clean water ready. The absent smalltalk as they worked delighted her, as much as she may have felt like an eavesdropper; there was little better than romantic gossip, after all. And after everything that happened yesterday, she could use all the delight she could muster.

As Ashear carefully rebandaged the wound, Lyn continued on about her partner; light-hearted teasing, but she could hear the care in her voice towards him. He'd been at her side all night, dragged away for his shift or else he'd surely be underfoot even now. But once rebandaged, she fell quiet, trailing off her words as she gripped more tightly at Jazaka's hand.

",...thank you, ma'am. I'd...prob'ly be dead without you. Was sure I was going t'be last night." She clung as hard as she could; a weakened grip in her state, but still a firm one. 

"...it...I was just performing my own duty." Her heart fluttered; not so much for the praise, but the reminder that she had saved a life. That whatever happened to her later, Lyn was hurt, and she had helped. What she'd always wanted to do. And she didn't need an apprenticeship, she didn't need a place to hang her shingle.

She felt antsy. Some of it may have been this...thing that now shared her mind, if it could even be called a thing. But...she didn't think it was all of it. Working in a city, helping its people, it was well and good, but Lyn would've likely died long before she could've reached one. And she couldn't shake that thought.

Perhaps this was what she ought to do. What she was meant for. She never placed much stock in fate, but when every sign seems bound to scream its message at her...

...Her silence hung too thick; pulling herself from her thoughts, she continued on. "But I'm relieved you're recovering so well. You'll be healed up in no time, and it seems you're in very good hands here." She looked towards Ashear with a smile. "But I hope you don't mind if I borrow him now, and let you get back to resting."

"Nah, nah...go ahead." Letting go of her hand, she shifted, as relaxed as she could manage. "All he's been saying about you, not going to hold him from that."

"Oh?" Frills fluttering, she looked askance towards him, mouth twitching. "Has he, then?"

Ashear stood agape, clenching his hand. "Lyn..."

"You wouldn't yell at an injured lady, would you?"

He could only sputter, a sound that soon made way for laughter. "Don't listen to her, Jazaka. She's clearly hallucinating."

"Clearly." Standing, her frills continued to twitch. "And we'll talk more about these hallucinations over breakfast. Rest well, Lyn; I'll check on you again this evening."

Chapter Text

And with that, Jazaka fell quiet again, her story complete and her voice strained. The silence was palpable as she sipped her tea, broken only when she set her cup down with a soft click; enough of a trigger for Cairon to spring into action.

"...well? What happened next?"

"Next? Ashear and I had breakfast. Scones and jam, I think it was?" Her frills fluttered as she smirked lightly, eyes bright with playfulness.

Grunting in frustration, Cairon almost collapsed back in his chair, bringing a quiet round of laughter from the group. But Cathra looked her way, drumming her talons on the table with a sharp snort. "You know wha' he meant, Jazaka. How'd you get from there t'here?"

She didn't respond right away, wondering how much she ought to say. Her voice was already near-worn, so simple was probably best...

"...Ashear and I left once we reached port. We traveled together for a time, trying to find more information about...it. About my patron. We had a bit of success here and there, but...we decided the best way to go was to split up for a time. He went to research, and I...followed its guidance. Followed the path it wanted me to follow. That path took me across the Outlands, and eventually to a merchant wagon that passed village to village. And when I reached Broadshire...I knew."

Trasal raised a brow, interest piqued. "Intriguing. Then this ancient patron of yours...it wanted you involved in all this?"

"Apparently so." She sighed, breathing deep, the scent of her tea helping to keep her centered. "But I haven't a clue why. I...don't regret it. Not a bit. But why it wanted me to join with you all? All I can guess...it's something to do with those signs you two were tracing."

Trasal nodded slowly in return, and Jazaka was sure he was filing it away with everything else, his light tones suspended as the Inquisitor in him made itself known. Collating and connecting, finding new implications and new deductions. A sharp mind behind that playful personality, he had.

"...but with all that told, I think I've found myself quite worn out." With a quiet snort, frills flaring, she sipped at her tea. "You might have more questions, but I would ask them wait for the morning?"

"Of course." Trasal nodded again, offering his usual enigmatic half-smile, as the rest of the party offered their own agreement. "And I'm sure we'll have quite the time for that on the road."

"Aye. An'...thanks for sharin' all this, Jazaka." Cairon smiled, even while his eyes burned with the desire to know more.

"Mm. Honestly, I feel a release, telling my tale to you all." Finishing her tea, she stood, setting the cup gently on its saucer with a quiet clink of porcelain. "I think I'll see to my room for the time. And perhaps tomorrow, I'll mention the aboleth."

With a glint of amusement in her pale eyes and the barest hint of a teasing smirk, she turned on her heels, finding more than a bit of delight in the gentle clamor of her companions' reaction.

Chapter Text

The first of Bravura, in the 127th year of Factol Hashkar

Watching the flame flicker in the inn's hearth, Tiana found herself lost within her own thoughts for the second time in as many days. She'd never been much for introspection, but it seemed her companions brought it out of her. Jazaka's story was fascinating, but that wasn't what had her mind's attention.

It had been just last night when she shrugged away Cathra's support, not wishing to burden her with matters entirely personal. At the time, it seemed the best course of action, certainly, but...

...she was the one who'd asked Jazaka originally about herself, weeks ago now. An offhand comment at the time, hardly more than polite conversation. She hadn't even remembered until Jazaka mentioned it in her preamble, but clearly her friend did, enough so that it helped motivate her to share such a deeply personal moment with them.

Sitting back, Tiana closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the air around them. Even with the fire, it still bore a familiar chill that pulled her back to her childhood on the Mount. Perhaps it wasn't her companions that brought this introspection out of her, but being surrounded by things so familiar to her. The corner of her mouth twitched as she thought back to her days on the family farm, awash in a wave of nostalgia strong enough, it was as though for just a moment, Chronepsis himself had turned back the clock. She sat with that feeling for a long spell, drawing comfort from it; enough so that she found herself regretting not joining the rest of her companions.

With a glance towards their table, she considered the matter for only moments before making her way over. Almost silently, she took a seat beside Trasal, noting how she seemed barely a pebble tossed into the flowing river that was their conversation.

"-gotta be so cold here, anyway?" Cathra scowled, rubbing her arms, as Cairon moved a bit closer to her with his usual teasing grin.

"This any better?"

Cathra huffed, but didn't deny it, leaning against him.

Normally she'd merely watch the banter, interjecting only when it seemed near to boiling over, when it needed a calming influence to avoid erupting into chaos. Absent talk to no real end was hardly a common activity for her. But after Jazaka, she felt an unfamiliar yet undeniable urge to join in, to engage with them.

"...perhaps you simply need a scarf, Cathra? I don't feel much of a chill at all."

One of the longest fractions of a second she'd ever felt followed as her companions looked to her, but Trasal was quick to end it. "I'd follow her advice, friend; if anyone knows about dressing for cooler climes, it's her."

"...mmph. I don't do scarves."

Cairon rolled his eyes, throwing an arm around Cathra as he laughed. "Maybe she's jus' better built for cold weather, Trasal? Like a bear!"

That comparison was enough to make even Tiana snort, raising her eyebrows as Cairon realized how that could be taken, face turning ashen almost in an instant.

"...aw, you know what I mean!"

Tiana smiled softly, shaking her head. "Less a bear, I think, than a sheep. My father raised sheep on the Mount, and I never heard any complaints."

Cathra looked at her, surprised at the nearest thing to a joke she'd yet heard Tiana make. But Cairon just let out another laugh, relieved to have not given insult. "That's prolly th'best mountain animal you can compare someone to an' not sound like a tosser, huh?"

"One of the better, certainly. Though the eagles-"

She was cut off as Cairon's eyes shot wide open, catching sight of Jreen at his own table. "Oi! Jreen, what in th'hells are you doin '?!"

Turning to get her own look, her reaction was much the same, and she was halfway out of her own chair before she realized what she was doing. Jreen, though, merely glanced up casually, setting down the thin knife he'd just used to slice into his finger. "Collecting blood."

"...collecting- your own?" Tiana blinked. "Why?"

"Catalyst, for mutagen. More Science." He held a vial to the thin slice, grunting in annoyance as his bleeding slowed to a stop before more than a few drops landed within. "Hmph. Healing too fast, though. Need leech saliva. Maybe Jazaka keeps leeches..."

"C'mon, there's gotta be safer ways t'do that." Moving to his table, Cairon let out a sharp chuckle from the pure shock of it all.

Keeping his seat, Trasal gestured about to the room, his grin belying any true disapproval he might be feeling. "Or at least better places than amongst all these fine people. You don't want us thrown out into the wild, do you?"

"Jreen had idea! Wanted to try while fresh in mind, easier than writing down."

"Honestly, Jreen. If I had a reputation, you'd be horrid for it." Trasal shook his head, joining Cairon at Jreen's table for the gnoll's own safety, while Tiana considered whether she ought do the same.

Her inner debate was settled, though, when she felt a tap at her shoulder; somehow, Cathra had managed to slip to her side without her even noticing, leaning close with a conspiratorial smirk. "'Ey, wanna leave th'boys to their nonsense? Mebbe we can do somethin' useful while they're wastin' time on all that Science crap."

She blinked, the offer taking her by surprise. "Ah...what do you have in mind?"

"Figured we could see if we can get an idea what this greybeard's like 'fore we meet up with him. Mebbe folks 'round here know him, eh?"

Tiana blinked again, even more surprised this time with how she hadn't thought of that herself. "Ah...yes, let's. We-"

She cut herself short; her first instinct was to take charge, but...this was Cathra's suggestion, and she had merely chosen to invite Tiana along. A surprising initiative from her, and one Tiana didn't think she ought deflate?

Cathra furrowed her brow, but Tiana let the half-spoken phrase fall. "What would you suggest first, Cathra?"

"...ah..." She was at a momentary loss for words, but quickly recovered as her mind spun with ideas. "...here? If he's a traveler, then...th'folks what work here might know him...aye? Mebbe some of those li'l shops 'round here too?"

Tiana nodded, and as Cathra stood, Tiana fell in step at her side. "Then, the bartender first?"

"...aye, let's try him. Mebbe get a drink too, eh? I could use somethin' warm."

"A drink? A bit early, no?"

"Eh? Oh, nah, didn't mean that kind. Jus' nice t'have some comfort after a walk like that, eh?"

The comment sent Tiana back into her memories; walking the Mount, exploring the nearby slopes, and knowing her father would always have something warm for her when the light dimmed and she returned. Her cheeks flushed gold as she realized how long the silence had stretched for, though, and she nodded in agreement, following Cathra to the bar, to wait for the tender's attention.

Cathra, though, wasn't much inclined to wait, clearing her throat almost obnoxiously as she waved him down. "'Ey, barkeep. Y'got any mulled cider? Not th'hard stuff."

He nodded with the familiar, practiced smile of one who made their living through the serving of others. "That I do; two copper for a mug. And you, miss?"

Tiana hesitated...but why not indulge these nostalgic yearnings a bit, she asked herself. There was no harm to it, despite what her instincts were telling her. "Ah...a warm sheep's milk, with cinnamon and vanilla? If you have it, of course."

"I think we can manage that." He chuckled, getting to their orders with the occasional glance back to them over his shoulder. "So, what brings you lot here?"

"We're lookin' to meet with some greybeard, supposed t'have some information for us. They've got kip jus' a few hours from here. You ever run inta them? Harn...somethin'. Harnivore?"

"Harneven," Tiana corrected gently. "An...ursinal, we were told? We're not much familiar with their kind..."

He nodded, laughing. "Yeah, I know them. They stop through every few months before heading out on one trip or another. Friendly fellow; loves to talk. If you get them going on one of their favorite topics, you're stuck for a couple hours. And sometimes it feels like everything's one of their favorite topics. Got a zest for plantlife, that's a fun one to get them on. Planar politics too, though I can't say I follow much of those, so I tend to just nod along when they start on that ."

Tiana could tell Cathra was feeling bored just hearing about it. She knew little of it herself — that was far more Trasal's domain — but perhaps this would be a chance to learn more? In either case, though, so far this sage sounded much as the Master Trader had described; she felt even more confident that they were on the right track.

"And how would we know them were we to see them?"

"Oh, not a chance you'd mistake them." With another friendly laugh, he set a mug before each of the two women. "Around eight feet tall, bright-white fur, hefty build. Usually wears the robes of a man of learning? Professor types and all that. I'm not sure if they actually teach anywhere, but it wouldn't surprise me."

She nodded, holding her mug in both hands, letting it warm her fingers before taking a deep sip, and pausing from the sudden wash of memories it brought forth. Even more than her reverie, the taste sent her straight back to her younger years, evenings curled up in her father's chair as she read...

...Cathra snorted, breaking her mind from its wandering; was it something about this inn, or was she simply homesick?

"Sounds familiar. So they're another furry sort, urs'nals?"

"That they are. The Elysian celestials, they all look like someone took an animal, put it in the shape of a person. A bear in their case."

Tiana hesitated at that; Trasal had often spoken in vague terms on the guardinals of Elysium, and rarely very positively. And after her own recent celestial encounter, she was inclined even further to trust his wariness. Still...it was where they were sent, and the Trader didn't seem the sort to cheat his guests.

"Thank you." Tiana put on her own forced smile, setting her mug down gently. "Did you have any further questions, Cathra?"

"...nah, don't think so. Thanks, guy." Before Tiana could even offer, she put down coin for both of them, a quick glare from her shutting down any objections she might raise.

He swept up the coin with a nod and a smile, making his way to another down the ball as Cathra turned Tiana's way with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "Ugh, another brainy furball. Here's hopin' this one ain't near so bad, eh?" She smirked, taking a deep quaff from her mug.

Tiana's smile turned true in response, if subtle. "Be cautious, though."

"Oh yeah, 'course. Don't much trust holy types as a rule, y'know? Moralizin' berks...uh, 'cept you, Blondie," she quickly added, blushing.

Tiana's smile grew just barely as she sipped her own drink, falling for a moment back into reverie.

"...'ey, you...uh...you all right? You're acting kinda...funny."

"Hm?"

"Well...that whole thing last night, an' today yer all...talky. I mean, talky for you. An' y'keep zonin' out."

Tiana couldn't help but stare a moment, her blush returning; had she been so obvious? Or was Cathra just that attentive? "Ah-"

"An' don't give me that 'no great matter' rot again," Cathra said in a fairly passable impression of her. "I was fine leavin' it before, figured jus' one of those times, y'know? But it's still got ya, whatever it is."

"It...truly isn't." She frowned, staring into her mug, watching the flakes of cinnamon flit here and there on the milk's surface. "I've been caught up in memories, nothing more."

That alone seemed to be enough; Cathra's scowl softened to a frown of her own. "Mmph. Been there. Been there a lot the last few weeks." Tapping her claws against her own mug, her tail whipped behind her. "Me an' Cai'..." She squirmed uncomfortably, looking away. "...we've both had some rough nights. Dunno what's got you so deep in yours, but...like I said...y'gotta talk to someone. Trasal or...whatever."

Tiana couldn't much bring herself to make eye contact either, her eyes still locked on her drink. She cared for Trasal, trusted him...and seeing Cairon and Cathra, she was starting to wonder if...

...but speaking frankly, directly? He wasn't one for that, outside the occasional rare moment at the campfire in the depths of night. Prayers to the Furies were buried deep in the earth; his thoughts, even further.

...Cathra, though? She'd been noticing a surprising...kinship with the tiefling for some time. And knowing her, this offer couldn't be an easy one.

"...a day," she said quietly. "Allow me to...think on myself for a day first, and...I shall take your offer, Cathra."

Cathra turned her head back to her so quickly, Tiana almost worried she would snap her own neck. "Y'...I mean...why'd-"

"...please?"

That one word was enough to quiet her objections. She nodded, her eyes glistening just slightly, though Tiana couldn't understand why. "Aye. Yeah...all right. Tomorrow, after we track down this furball."

Tiana nodded in return, sealing their arrangement as she took a deep drink, finishing what was left all at once. Savoring the taste that sent her back to her childhood, capturing the moment once more. Another deep breath, the chill in her lungs returned...and with an exhalation, the scent was gone. The words of Chronepsis: one can revisit the past, learn from it, appreciate it...gain joy and sorrow alike from it. But they must not dwell within it, lest the flow of time sweep them away in its wake.