Chapter 13

### The Group Travels to Tezef

The trees are blackened and dark. Branches, like wires, entangle themselves far above, a sickened, blightened canopy. The party stirs, laying on dirt with no greenery in sight. Dim light tries to force its way to the ground through the shroud of entwined limbs far above, but at ground level, the party awakens as though in dusk.

Minerva sits up and looks around. "Huh. Everyone in one piece?"

Oren nods, standing and offering Eliam his hand to help him up as well.

"I think so,” Eliam answers, wincing slightly as he looks around. “Any idea where this is?"

Oren turns to help Elise, who stands on her own before he can reach her. "I've never seen anything like this..." she says, somewhat sadly. "The forest... never looked like this in Saloria."

"Is it possible we were sent somewhere else?" Gwendolyn asks, checking her armor and reattaching it.

"Not Iquai? Maybe,” Oren answers. “Sylvatir is bigger than just Iquai, right?"

Eliam tilts his head, closing his eyes. "There's something to the south... I think it might be the wellspring. Or rather, the remains of it. There's just... nothing there."

Oren gathers their things from the ground, dusting off the coins and books. "Maybe we can find a tree to climb and look around, see the fastest way out.."

Minerva taps a few trees and looks around. "This one looks decent... Anyone want to try?"

"You're probably better at it,” Oren shakes his head. “Though Elise weighs less than you."

Minerva nods. "All right. I can give it a shot..." She gestures to Eliam and Oren. "Make sure you're under the tree to catch me if I fall, right?"

"Of course,” Eliam smiles confidently. “We've got this"

Minerva begins to scale the tree, stumbling only slightly as her foot slips. She regains her ground, continuing onwards several feet up. "I don't want to go any higher!" she shouts "The branches look awful beyond here. There's a bit of light to the south though? Not a lot but... something flickering. Torches?"

"It's fine! Just climb down then,” Eliam shouts. “We'll try going south."

Minerva climbs down slowly. She slips once or twice as the bark gives way beneath her feet but she makes it safely.

"Maybe it's elves?" Oren asks, helping her steady herself as she reaches the ground.

"Elves are the most likely thing we'll run into out here, yeah...” Eliam says. “Though I'm not sure they'll welcome us."

"Alright, do we head south and risk running into whoever that is, or go east and try to get to Tezef?" Oren asks.

Elise shudders a little. "I don't know that I want to stumble across elves..."

"There might be some villages along the way, once we get out of the Bramble,” Oren tells her kindly.

"How much food do we have?” Eliam asks. “Can we make it there?"

"Um..." Oren looks around nervously at the rest of the group.

Eliam, seeing his concern, smiles charmingly at Minerva. "How much food did we pack, anyways?"

"We?" she asks. "I packed my stuff and checked to make sure Elise was ready. Did... did you not bring anything?"

"Of course I did. Oren and I made sure we had the other stuff. You know... books, alcohol, all our money."

Oren rolls his eyes. "We have money, and tents, and blankets, and... we can find some food."

Minerva folds her arms. "We'll have to make good time, then. We probably have enough food for all of us for one day. We need to pick a direction and move."

Eliam holds his hand up, and looks over at some of the bushes. "Did you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?" Gwendolyn asks, placing her hand on the hilt of her sword.

Elise looks around. "I hear no voices..."

"Maybe I was just imagining it?” Eliam shrugs. “I thought I heard some bushes rustling over there."

"If it's another painting, we can just never wake up,” Oren says, ushering them away towards Tezef.

Elise quickly grabs his arm to stop him. "He's right. That's not a natural rustling. Someone's there."

"What do you guys want to do?" Minerva asks.

"Hello?" Eliam calls out tentatively.

An arrow lands in the dirt, just missing his feet.

Oren closes his eyes, then drops his voice to a whisper. "There are at least a dozen of them, all around us."

A second arrow lands at their feet, this time with a piece of paper wrapped around the shaft. Gwendolyn takes it, frowning slightly as she reads the paper over.

"They want us to declare ourselves. And to be loud. Are elves hard of hearing?"

"I don't know,” Oren answers, thinking it over. “Not that I remember."

Another arrow strikes the dirt, landing close to Elise.

"My name is Lady Gwendolyn Oberle,” she calls, “Paladin of the Holy Church of Fallowfield, sworn protector of the Children of Destiny, righteous purifier of heretical Patriarchs, and future Queen of Iquai. With me are the Children of Destiny themselves. And fire another arrow at us, and I will personally bring it back to you."

Another arrow lands at her feet, with another piece of paper around the shaft.

"They are telling us to run," she says, dropping the paper and pulling out her sword.

"Let's go east?" Oren shrugs, and begins to walk.

"But... we're the Children of the Maker,” Eliam says, annoyed as he follows Oren.

"Goodbye, elves," Oren says as he takes Elise's hand. She shakes him off, walking after him with Minerva.

"Don't mind him,” Eliam says quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder. “He's just bad with people." Oren looks back, glaring at him, and Eliam smiles in return.

“It's okay,” Elise nods at him. “You'll teach him.”

As Oren passes a tree, another arrow embeds itself at the level of his head. "It said run."

"How are they writing these so quickly?" Oren asks, handing the arrow to Eliam.

"Are... they long messages?" asks Minerva.

"Not really," Oren shrugs, handing her the paper as they continue to walk.

An elf floats down from the canopy. She is dressed in a white dress with a green trim that floats in the air around her; her curved horns are shining. She is looking at the party with a look of utmost disdain. "You dishonour us," she says simply.

"We're trying to leave,” Eliam answers, annoyed.

"Maybe they want a gift or something,” Oren whispers, raising his eyebrow. What do elves like? ...Do you have any milk?” He asks Minerva. “Fairies like it, maybe they're the same?"

"Not quickly enough," the elf answers. "You taint the beauty of our race with your plodding feet, your heavy breaths, your-" she shudders- "asymmetrical faces."

"Well, it's not going to be any quicker if you're stopping us to talk,” Gwen answers.

Sighing, Oren pulls out a vial of aether from his bag. He sets it carefully on a rock in front of her, and slowly backs away. "Fey like gifts, I think,” he whispers to the others. “And stealing babies."

She raises a perfectly-plucked eyebrow. "What is that?”

"Aether,” Oren answers. “It's a gift for you in exchange for letting us pass through your forest. ...But don't touch what's inside, it might hurt you."

The woman picks up the vial. The shimmering aether seems to captivate her. "H-how? How could you... possess...?"

"We're the Children of the Maker,” Eliam shrugs. “It doesn't hurt us."

"Don't tell people that once we're out of here,” Oren whispers quietly. “We can't have the orcs finding out."

"Yeah... probably the best plan. I guess. It's such a great title to have though," he smiles, and walks briskly with Oren past the elf.

"Such... such beauty." She tilts the vial back and forth while the aether swirls within, failing to notice the group as they continue on past her.

After several minutes, an flies from within the forest. It contains a scribbled note in an oddly messy script: "Save our Bramble."

"The wellspring was south, right?" Oren adds as he finishes reading it.

"Yeah, near Saloria,” Eliam nods.

"We should probably fix it if we can. I guess since we're already close to it...” Oren closes his eyes, thinking. “Though, it could be hundreds of miles away. Isn't the wither only in the northern part of the bramble?"

"That's correct, according to all our maps," Minerva says.

"We can always come back,” Gwendolyn suggests. “It's not like they were that friendly to us before."

"It's not for them,” Oren says, frowning. "With the wellspring destroyed, healers couldn't use their magic. And maybe the other kinds of magic were affected as well. We should fix it, it'll make it easier to stop the... I mean, they wanted it destroyed... so... we should fix it?"

"If it's what the orcs wanted, we should be doing the opposite," Minerva says resolutely.

Oren nods. "So, which way?"

Eliam closes his eyes. "It's pretty far... a few days away. South and a bit west. Maybe we should resupply in Tezef first?"

"That's a good idea,” Oren nods. “We could take a boat to Saloria. And we could stop in Ushad.”

"Oh, that would be much faster,” Eliam nods.

"We should definitely figure out what's been going on since we've been gone,” Gwendolyn agrees.

The party resumes their travels east. Every so often, an arrow strikes a tree with a small pouch attached that contains a piece of fruit or some bread; a gift from the elves to make their travels easier.

After a few days, the party begins to near Tezef. As the treeline thins and they begin to approach civilization, they begin to see black smoke in the distance above the canopy.

### The Group Arrives in Tezef

Minerva's eyes narrow as she sees the black smoke rising in the distance. "T-that's not right. Tezef was never... no." She speeds up and begins jogging toward the smoke.

The Sages' River rocks furiously as burning lumber is falling into it on the far riverbank. Buildings are collapsing. Trees are dropping. The screams of humans and orcs are splitting the night.

The shipyard on the water is ablaze. Docks and boats are crumbling and sinking.

Minerva's knees are buckling as she grabs Oren's shoulder for support.

Gently, Oren helps her to the ground, and walks to the banks of the river. He kneels down, closing his eyes as he senses the water. Eliam follows and lays his hand on Oren's back, between his shoulder blades, and glows grey as his powers augment Oren's own. Oren glows blue as he feels every particle of water beneath him. He feels every ebb and flow of the Sage's River, and he commands it. It rises and washes over the buildings on the riverbank at his command, extinguishing the flames. He orders it to freeze and form a bridge, and it obeys.

Minerva slides over to Oren and wraps him up in a tight embrace. "Thank you," she says shakily, before leaping onto the bridge and running away from the party toward the city.

Oren smiles, and after a moment, shakes himself to go to follow. "You helped,” he says to Eliam before turning to leave.

Eliam smiles, leading Gwendolyn and Elise after them across the bridge into the city.

People mill about, collecting water and hustling to bring it further into town, where fires still rage.

"What happened?” Gwendolyn asks.

The woman she speaks to turns with wide eyes. "I-I-I don't know, just... things started... exploding. People were screeching about a monster. The orcs attacked but it... it wiped them out, and then started spewing flames all over. Please, get water. Help!"

"Is the monster still here?"

"I-I have no idea, I never saw it. Please, just... help!" She runs off with buckets of water.

Gwendolyn nods, and leaves into the city to offer aid.

Oren, Elise, and Eliam combine their powers. An upswelling of water rises into the air, and Elise blows it across the city. It rains down across the fires and douses them. A few small blazes continue to burn, but the city has by and large been saved.

Some of the passerby notice this, and they begin hailing the party. "H-how? What miracle is this?!"

Wet footsteps begin slapping against the wood. Minerva has rounded the corner from beyond a building. Breathless and soaking, she stops as she sees Oren. She stands, staring at him and panting from her run for a moment, before moving toward him, slowly at first, then faster, faster, until finally she throws herself at him, kissing him fully. "Thank you," she says shakily when she pulls away and buries her head into his neck. "Thank you."

"Elise and Eliam helped,” Oren says, somewhat flustered as he returns her embrace. “But don't kiss them.”

"We're the Children of the Maker, sent to save everyone,” Eliam announces.

The people look at each other warily. "T-the Children?" "I thought that was a myth!" "You saw what they did!" "They saved us all!"

There is a massive roar from within the city. Elise says, "Voices from the town square! 'The monster is still here!'"

"Let's go kill it,” Oren says, kissing Minerva on the cheek.

She pulls out her daggers. "You are on a roll today, aren't you? This way," she says, running into town.

Gwen has entered a building near the shore. There is the sound of a crying child from upstairs. The stairs are rickety and half-burned.

Tentatively she places a foot on the lowest steps. They creak dangerously, moving slightly as they support her weight.

Gwendolyn discards some of her armor and her sword and shield, and runs quickly up the steps. A few of the stairs creak and one in the middle actually falls down after she steps off it, but she makes it to the second floor. Her feet tread lightly down the upstairs hallway; the fire has weakened the floor, but so far, so good.

She follows the child's cries to a room on the right. The door opens. There's a four-year-old, soot marking his face except for the trails where tears have washed it away. One of his hands is pulling at his own lips. "I want mommy."

"It's going to be okay. Is there anyone else up here?" She asks comfortingly, kneeling and checking to make sure he isn't injured. "Where's your mommy? We can go find her."

"You're not mommy," he answers.

"I know, but it's not safe here. She'd want you to be safe, right? And then we can go find her for you."

The child seems hesitant to move. The floor down the hallway begins to creak ominously. The child draws away from the noise.

"It's okay, I won't let you get hurt. But we need to leave now, it's dangerous."

The child nods, and Gwendolyn picks him up, carrying him back to the stairs. She tries the top step, and it creaks loudly, but holds.

She passes over a missing step, but as she places her weight on the next step down, it gives out under her. Gwen feels herself falling forward, and uses her strength to tighten her hold on the child. She twists in the air so that her armour and body take the brunt of the landing, and so the child won't fall beneath her.

Sliding down the stairs with a clatter, the two collapse onto the landing. The child bursts out in tears, more from being startled than being hurt.

"Hey, hey, you're alright,” Gwen smiles, pulling herself up. “I told you I wouldn't let you get hurt."

A man comes to the door. "What is... oh, good Maker, Thomas," he says moving forward. "Are you all right?" He kneels down to help the child stand and brushes him off.

Thomas cries and rubs his eyes. "I want mommy."

The man hugs him. "I know you do." He turns his attention to Gwen. "Did you get him out?"

"I did,” she answers. “I didn't see his mother, though."

The man bites his lip. "I'm their neighbour. Now that the Children's rains have put the fire out, I'll search the house. Are you... a knight?" he asks, seeing the shield and sword on the floor.

"I'm something of the sort. The Children's rains?"

"It was a miracle. Three of them used their powers to create a rain that doused the city and smothered the fires. Then they ran off to the town square to slay the evil monster that started all this." The man shudders. "That beast was awful. I've never seen a snake that size before. It was like you could see right through it..."

"Which way to the town square?" Gwen asks quickly, picking up her things.

"Go back to the dock and follow the long road east,” he answers.

"The Maker will see that it's dealt with,” she says confidently, sheathing her sword as she walks to the door. “Please keep Thomas safe."

Minerva is in the lead, her legs carrying her nearly as much as adrenaline is. The party is following her, as are several of the civilians from the dock. The crowd grows as it travels, and the party hears the chatter increasing. "The Children?" "Like the story?" "No, really?" "They doused the town!" "They're going to slay the monster!"

Minerva begins to slow as the town square comes in sight. The large, ornamental water fountain is surrounded with a black, translucent aura. She comes to a stop. "I... I know that. Isn't that...?"

Oren approaches warily, and the black aura explodes into the sky. It coalesces into Kunalchusi.

"Hm,” he chuckles. “You."

Kunalchusi lowers his head down to Oren. The intense wave of power that washes over Oren feels overwhelming. "Karoru's chosen, hm? To think you followed me here. You could have hidden and stayed safe in that frozen wasteland, you know."

"Why don't you go back there?” Oren answers. “You can have it."

"One world could never be enough for me. Karoru has had two worshipping her for ages. Now... as for you, who reek of his scent... I suggest you leave. Go back to Thirshalon. Live. Mortal lives are so... fleeting," he says lowly as Gwendolyn arrives and rejoins the group.

Someone in the crowd shouts, "You can do it! Kick its ass!"

"Good job with the rain,” Gwen whispers to Eliam. “What's with the crowd?"

"Thanks. Put the fire out, but... now we have to deal with this again,” he says, motioning to Kunalchusi.

Wordlessly, Oren strikes the snake with an arcane blast. It phases directly through his body and strikes the fountain, blasting a chunk of carved stone from it.

He rears back. "Fleeting... and foolish." The deity's mouth opens, and a gout of flame erupts forth, engulfing Oren, who is sent back flying.

Kunalchusi rises into the sky, slithering in circles around the square. "So tell me, Chosen of Karoru. Shall we continue? Or will you live to fight another day?"

Eliam extends his power to the sky in an effort to block Kunalchusi's connection to the aether. The assault causes Kunalchusi's body to shimmer, and three blobs of aether fall off him to the ground.

"Cute," Kunalchusi says. "Try mine." A burst of flame overwhelms Eliam, pushing him to the ground.

Kunalchusi rises higher into the sky. "Three of me will be more than enough for five of you. If you survive, seek me in your pitiful capital. I will be ruling your world and being adored in the meanwhile..."

As Kunalchusi flies away, the three blobs of aether each begin to form into a smaller version of himself.

Each is the size of a person, but looks identical to the deity in every other respect.

The Battle in Tezef

From the ground, Eliam casts a firestorm at the snakes. It explodes over them and knocks them all to the ground, though they seem particularly unharmed.

Elise runs forward to heal him, eyeing the monsters warily as she does so, and Gwendolyn raises her shield to ward them off.

Gwen raises her shield to attempt to ward off the snakes.

Minerva slashes with her daggers at the nearest snake; she lands only a glancing blow.

Oren's power assaults the snakes, but unlike all the foes he has targeted previously, they scarcely react. Is it because they have no blood that they resist the spell so strongly? Regardless, he manages to excite the aether within their bodies and cause some interior damage.

The snakes open their mouths as if to bite, but emanate a high, keening scream as their bodies are engulfed with shimmering aetheric auras.

Elise and Eliam back, Elise healing some of Oren's wounds as she arrives near him. Her magic fades as it touches his wounds, however, and she looks at him anxiously. "Wh... what is this?"

Oren shakes his head, eyes narrowing as he attempts to sense for any blood within the snake's bodies.

"Everyone! It's not safe! You need to leave!" Gwendolyn yells to the crowd as she rushes in to attack.

Minerva follows, stabbing at the snakes' backs while they're distracted.

Oren freezes the water within the fountain, sending icicles to impale the bodies of the snakes. They shriek and writhe as they recoil. The center snake's aura explodes, bathing them all in a damaging wave of magic.

The spirits move forward, attacking Elise and Oren. One of the spirits embeds its fangs deep into Gwendolyn's arm, hissing as she shakes it away and throws it at the fountain, where it fails to get back up.

One aspect moves in on Eliam. It slips around him, coils up his body, and before he can throw it off, sinks its fangs into his neck, thrashing violently. A burst of aether blows the snake back as he grabs the side of his neck. Elise runs in quickly to assist him. Healed, he attacks it with a small burst of flame, and its body disappates.

Gwendolyn rushes forward, stabbing furiously and repeatedly. The aspect buckles under the weight of Gwen's repeated assault and explodes upon her final strike. Its aether floats into the air and dissipates.

The citizenry poke their heads back out from the nearby buildings. A mighty cheer is raised as the dark aura has left the fountain.

Tonight, the party is hailed as heroes.

### The Group Parties in Tezef

The crowd forms once again, and shouts of “The Children have triumphed!” fill the air as the group is ushered back to The Fairbranch Inn. It seems almost as if the whole city is there, or at least those who have survived the flames; and the party spills out from the inn itself into the streets. People from all walks of life try to get a look inside at the heroes, and the beer and wine flow freely.

The crowd lucky enough to force their way inside the inn ahead of them have begun pushing chairs and tables up against the walls to allow more room in the main hall. As the group of heroes rides the wave of noise and excitement to the doors of the tavern, the swarm seems to have unintentionally separated the group. Minerva and Elise, for all the effort in trying, are nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile, Eliam, Oren, and Gwendolyn are sat at one of the few remaining tables, which is immediately filled with alcohol of all types as the large group of fawning men and women vie for their attention, begging for stories of their heroics, tales of their adventures, and information on what the monster was.

Oren finds a table, sipping at some wine. Gwendolyn joins him, taking the seat across from him and pours herself a glass as well.

After a few minutes, Eliam wanders over, grinning happily as he takes the seat next to Oren. "One hell of a welcome, right?"

Oren nods, looking around awkwardly. “This is like the other time, in Ushad, and that ended badly."

"What happened in Ushad?" Gwendolyn adds, and turns to a random partier. "Can you bring us a bottle of Oberle Estate Vintner's Reserve Riesling, please?" Gwendolyn smiles as he nods and leaves. "That was always my favorite. It's nice to be home."

"Well... That's sort of how and where we met Minerva, actually,” Eliam answers. “She recruited us to what she swears isn't a cult."

Oren nods. "It's definitely a cult, though. I don't know why she doesn't agree."

Eliam smiles. "So we all happened to be in Ushad, right? Pretty crazy the more I think about it. Anyways, we were minding or own business when some orcs attacked. Oren was amazing, he tended to all the wounded. And Votig managed to fight off the ones outside while I fought off the ones inside. We were pretty great, to tell the truth.

"Then Minerva just... Showed up? I think the bartender must have been part of her cult, the Lyriad. The bartender must have tipped her off. Then we got wrapped up in helping her, went to the wellspring in Saloria, and ended up going to Fallowfield for answers. Then we ended up in Thirshalon."

A man places a few bottles on the table, and leaves.

"Don't talk about the cult too much,” Oren whispers, shushing him. “It's a secret and a spy might hear you."

"Right, right, sorry," Eliam grins.

"Were pretty great?” Gwen smiles. “I think the crowd would agree you still are."

"True enough!” Eliam answers cheerfully. “We just have to keep saving towns and winning everyone over, and the king thing will be easy."

"Are we going back to the Bramble?” She asks. “The monster said it's going to Siraj... but I'm not sure how to stop it.”

"We should fix the wellspring if we can...” Oren sips at his drink. “I'm not sure in what order, though."

"Yeah... Maybe if we fix the wellspring it will weaken Kunalchusi, somehow,” Eliam agrees. “There's just this... void there, now. It feels wrong."

"Maybe. I wish we knew more about it,” Gwendolyn says regretfully as she sips her drink.

"Did you really make wine where you grew up?" Oren asks her.

"My family did, yes, though not me specifically. I left before I began following any kind of training for it."

"So you don't want to make wine? You should learn, you have good taste,” Oren smiles. “You could make a lot of money, probably."

"Do you think you could return to your previous life after all this? I don't,” Gwen answers. “I haven't seen them in almost 8 years, and I'm not even sure I could return to my life in Fallowfield after what's happened. Assuming there was still a life for me there still, that is."

"...I wouldn't mind returning, I guess,” Oren answers quietly. “We'll see. You don't have to go back though, I meant you could have your own wine."

"I don't really have the means to start up anything that could compete. And once Eliam becomes king, that's going to take up most of my time anyway."

"We have a lot of money from Thirshalon, probably enough to start a business if you wanted. And we don't know if he'll be king. The people might not want a new king after this. Minerva said there should be a vote."

"Look at the reaction we have tonight. Now imagine it after we stop the monster and overthrow the corrupt Elyde,” She smiles. “I don't think there'd be any argument if one of the Children wanted to step up and run the country."

"I guess, but that doesn't mean it's a good idea,” Oren frowns. “We could rule Thirshalon too if we wanted, but who would want to? It's a lot of work without much reward. It would be better to pick someone else who would be good at it and help keep things from going back to the way they are now."

"Is there anyone you have in mind?” She tilts her head. “Because I can't think of anyone from whats left of the nobles who would be a good fit. I can't imagine any commoner would be better. Eliam would be a good leader, as well."

"You're welcome to do something else, I suppose, after this is all over.” she adds, sipping her wine. “If the reward isn't enough for you."

"Being king is a lot of work, and dangerous,” Oren shrugs. “I don't know if Eliam would enjoy it at all. He could have any perk being king brings without any of the responsibility and be much happier. He would be good at it if he wanted to do it, though." He looks at him. "Do you want to be king?"

Eliam looks up from his wine distractedly. "I don't know... I was given the powers of the Children for a reason. I don't want to squander this opportunity."

"We're not squandering it, we're going to save the world from that demon, and overthrow the government,” Oren replies. “That's obviously what we're meant to do."

"And what of the decades after?” Gwen asks. “Surely nothing could be more dangerous than what we're going to face now, even being king. To deny one without the other would be hypocritical. Eliam has a way with people; he's charming, and smart. There's no reason he wouldn't make a great king, loved by all."

"I guess that's true. But I don't care as much about who rules the country as long as they're not horrible. All of us being happy and together is more important to me, and I doubt he'd be very happy with all the obligations that come with ruling." Oren puts his arm on the table and looks seriously at Eliam. "If you could do anything, what would you do? We should be rewarded for saving the world, not punished, and do whatever we want, and leave the hard work of managing things to other people who are willing and more qualified. Gwendolyn could do it if she wants, but that doesn't mean you have to."

"To be honest... It sounds like Gwendolyn has an idea of what she'd like to do, as far as running things goes?" Eliam answers, looking at her uncertainly. "But we're the ones who have the divine gifts. I'm not sure who else would claim the right to rule, but it's hard to argue with that. ...And you and I wouldn't have to worry about where to live or what to do after all this is done. We'd never struggle for money again, or not have a place to stay."

"I guess,” Oren nods. “If that's what you want."

To be honest, outside of a few short term personal goals, such as rebuilding from recent attacks, I really don't," Gwen shrugs. "It really depends, I guess, on the state of the country at the time, and how much support we gain from our families."

"Well... I'm sure it will still be fine,” Eliam says, frowning slightly. “We can figure it out as we go. As long as we clean up the aftermath of these attacks and rebuild, that should be enough of a start." He sips his drink, suddenly grinning at Oren. "But more importantly, what was that kiss outside with Minerva? Should I be looking for a different inn room?"

"Kiss?" Gwendolyn smiles. "It's about time one of you made a move, I suppose. I guess we have more than one thing to celebrate."

"Oh, I don't know, I guess she was happy,” Oren looks down, flustered. “I assumed you'd be sleeping somewhere else tonight anyway. ...And we should celebrate your engagement, right?"

"That didn't look like a kiss just because she was happy,” Eliam smiles, putting his hand on his shoulder. “You should have seen it, Gwen. We made rain over the city, which was pretty amazing, I have to admit. Minerva was so happy with him, she looked like she was about to drag him into the nearest inn room. Which I guess she still might do, really. We do have a lot to celebrate, don't we? This journey is really starting to look up."

Oren nods.

"Oh, my," Gwendolyn says, smiling somewhat sadly. "It must be nice to be so in love."

"I don't know. You're in love, right?” Oren looks at her. “I know sometimes wellborn people marry for other reasons, but at least Eliam knows you're not after his inheritance or anything."

"Yes,” she answers steadily, finishing her glass. "I am."

"Good. Being married will be good for him, he won't be able to ramble around seducing barmaids anymore. You'll get him to behave. Right, Eliam?" Oren smiles at him.

"..Yeah, of course," Eliam says, studying his drink.

"Are you going to have children?” Oren asks.

"It's a little early to try to figure that sort of thing out, isn't it?” Eliam answers quickly, looking somewhat annoyed. “I mean, are you and Minerva going to have children?"

"I don't even think she likes me,” Oren shrugs. “But if we get engaged, we'll discuss it, I guess. I'll tell you as soon as I know."

"Of course she likes you, Oren,” Gwendolyn says kindly.

"I hope so, but she's very impulsive,” Oren smiles. “I won't believe it just because of a kiss. She said she likes me but she doesn't say what she means. I can never understand her. You're lucky," he nudges Eliam, "Gwendolyn always says what she means, and you're good at understanding people. You'll never have to wonder if she really likes you."

"She doesn't seem like the type who would kiss someone they don't like, to me,” Gwen answers. “But maybe you should talk to her about it. But yes, we're both lucky in that regard."

"Yes,” Eliam smiles."I like to think I have good judgement with people. Minerva's not too terribly bad with that though, I'm sure. The more time you spend with her, the more you'll come to understand her. But yes, I'm sure she wouldn't kiss you if she didn't like you. I mean, she wouldn't sleep with me when I asked. I'm impressed you got to her at all."

"Really. You were interested in Minerva?" She raises an eyebrow.

"I thought I'd try my luck when we first met,” Eliam shrugs sheepishly. “I didn't really know what she was like, then."

"Well you didn't try that hard,” Oren replies. “You could probably seduce her if you wanted to."

"Er... I think I'm going to pass on that,” Eliam raises an eyebrow. “Why would you want someone else to seduce her anyways?"

"Not somebody else, but I wouldn't mind if it were you, I guess...” Oren looks down, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean... I guess it's not ideal, but if it makes you both happy, I can't really complain..." he frowns. "We're... not married or anything, so it's up to her, anyway..."

"Well... I don't think... you'll really need to worry about that,” she says, giving Eliam a look.

"No. I'm not going to seduce Minerva, especially not while you like her,” Eliam tells him. “If she wants to be with someone else though, she'll tell you. Don't just let someone else seduce her though, okay?"

Oren shrugs, refilling everyone's glass. He reads the label on the bottle. "It's not my place to stop her if it's what she wants. But thank you, I appreciate you saying that. I'm glad you're happy with Gwendolyn, you don't need anyone else now."

Gwendolyn accepts her wine, drinking awkwardly. Eliam looks away, silent as well. Oren smiles slightly, enjoying the silence, and after a moment, picks up another bottle to read the label on that as well.

"What are you looking for?" Eliam asks.

"What does this mean?" He says, pointing to the word 'Riesling'.

"It's the name of the grape the wine is made from,” Gwen smiles. “Do you like it?"

"It's good. Did your father make it? Or... family, or..." he trails off awkwardly.

"He might have, or maybe it was Mr. Goebel,” Gwen answers. “I'm not really sure who's in charge of production these days."

Oren nods slowly. "So he doesn't make it himself?"

"No. He used to mostly oversee the sales side from Siraj. My mother was supposed to oversee most of the wine making itself, but... well, she enjoys drinking it more."

"My uncle would make poitín and ale to sell, and he drank a lot too,” Oren says. “So maybe it's just part of the job."

"Oh, really? But yes, it is hard to avoid when its a part of so much of your life." She looks at him, thinking. "Were you close to your uncle?"

Oren shrugs, looking away.

"We could try to find him if you'd like... or at least your sister, if you'd like to see them again,” Eliam offers.

Oren shakes his head. "Thanks. It's not necessary, and I don't know where they live anyway."

"I'm sure they'll be easy to find after we gain the resources of the crown,” Gwen offers.

Oren shrugs, and continues reading. "Where is Hadleigh?" He asks, pointing to where the name is written.

"Southwest of Siraj,” she answers. “It's a nice place, if you have money."

"Most places are better if you have money,” Oren replies.

"Enough with all the serious talk,” Gwen declares, raising her glass. “We're supposed to be celebrating, right? How about a toast. To being home. To new love. To a peaceful future."

Oren looks confusedly at Eliam.

"I'll toast to that,” he answers, clinking his glass against Gwen's and nudging for Oren to do the same.

Oren watches them, but declines to join in, smiling as he sips his drink.

"Where are the other two, anyways?” Gwen asks. “Did Minerva say anything to either of you?"

"Maybe she's putting Elise to bed," Oren shrugs.

"You should really be nicer to her,” she suggests. “She's been trying her best to help out, and in these last fights she's really proven herself."

"To who, Elise?” Oren tilts his head. “I'm nice to her. ...I think."

"I think she means, you know, don't treat her like a kid,” Eliam adds. “It seems like it upsets her. Trying to lead her by the hand, things like that."

"Yes, exactly,” Gwen nods. “She's not that much younger than you, I don't think."

"Well... I don't know about you but I'd rather offend her by leading her away from danger than let her get hurt,” Oren frowns. “It may be disrespectful to assume she needs protection, but she really does. Don't you remember what happened with the prison? And really, she does act more like a child than most people her age... I think Heather spoiled her and now she's just used to having her own way, so she gets upset if you tell her what to do."

"I do. But since the prison, she's seemed to have gained some resolve,” Gwen says. “Just from the dream, it seemed like her parents were rather protective. Maybe it's just taken time for her to come into her own."

"I agree, but I still don't think I've been treating her badly,” Oren insists. “I've been nice, I think. At least I mean to be nice. Unfortunately, she gets offended by everything. When we first got to Thirshalon we tried to discuss leaving her somewhere safe while we traveled around, but she overheard us and threw a tantrum and stormed off. Minerva went with her to protect her and they both wound up as vampires as a result. Then she blamed me for it, which doesn't make sense at all since she's the one who left."

"I think your heart is in the right place, you're just...maybe going about it in the wrong way,” Gwen smiles. “I don't think she wants to be left somewhere safe. What about instead helping her with her magic? She has the talent, and you both seem like skilled mages. You could teach her to protect herself, and maybe the whole group. Then we'd all be safer. I don't really know magic, though, so maybe that's not possible. I did offer to help train her to fight when we got back to Iquai, so maybe that will help."

Oren shrugs. "I think her magic is fine, that's not really the problem. She told those fake children all sorts of things she shouldn't have and they didn't even ask. What would happen if the Rorgh had captured her? Protecting her is more than just keeping her safe in a fight. And I don't necessarily think we should leave her somewhere now, that was just in Thirshalon... we didn't know what to expect, and we didn't really know her that well either."

"I don't think you're wrong,” Eliam agrees. “And in the end, we were right, weren't we? Thirshalon was dangerous. We got captured soon after we got there. If she'd been with us, she would have been taken to the Judgment as well. I know getting bitten wasn't great, but... if she'd just stayed at an inn or something, she could have been safe, maybe. But she does seem desperate to prove herself as an adult now, though, so we may as well give her the chance, I guess."

Gwen nods. "Maybe. But she might've gotten in trouble if she had stayed somewhere by herself anyway. And in the end we needed her. She's definitely safer with us now, anyway. I don't think I've ever seen anyone as strong as Eliam."

"He's very gifted at magic, definitely,” Oren says. "Wait, so how am I supposed to be nice to Elise? I am nice. I haven't tried to leave her anywhere in over a month now. Why do you think I'm not nice to her?"

"Because she doesn't want to be treated like a kid, which is how she takes your help,” Gwen explains. “I guess its not that you aren't being nice, but... just that she doesn't see it that way. Treat her like an equal."

Oren looks at Eliam, then back at her. "...Okay. I guess I'll try."

"It'd be a lot easier if they'd just understand you didn't spend much time around people growing up,” Eliam sighs. “I don't know why they don't understand that. They're pretty unforgiving about this stuff, considering."

"Well, it's not their fault if I'm not... uh... normal?" Oren nods.

"Hmm, well, they seem to not understand you as much as you don't understand them. Maybe tomorrow morning, before we head out, we should get together and just talk,” Gwen suggests.

"That might not be a bad idea, honestly,” Eliam agrees. “We should at least figure out what exactly to do. I know that monster said he'd be in Siraj, but... I'm not certain we're ready to fight him."

"Maybe if we force him to summon enough of those smaller versions, he'll get weaker,” she says. “But if what it says is true, that it's the enemy and rival of the Maker, maybe there's some sort of artifact that can help? If only Prilla was still here..."

"Well.. we could go to the tower where I lived,” Oren suggests. “There was a library and probably some information that would help us. Or we could just ask my master, if he's there."

"Your master?" She tilts her head, and he nods. "It might be our best shot. Eliam, what do you think?"

"I think it's our best bet as well. I mean, he had the flower in the first place, right? He must have known something about all this."

Oren looks down at his drink, thinking. "This wine is good,” he says. “Maybe you should just sell wine, if you don't know how to make it. You know a lot about it, and you know which ones are the best."

"I want to help better Iquai,” Gwen answers. “I don't really think selling wine would help with that."

"You can do both, you'll need a job, right?” He looks at her. “You can't work for the church if you're married, right?"

"Being queen is a full time job."

"Oh, I thought Eliam was going to do all the work. Are you going to rule?” Oren smiles. “That might be better, actually, then he can relax and do whatever he wants."

"No, we're both going to help each other,” Gwen answers, frowning slightly. “There's no reason to have the burden on just one of us."

"I'm sure we can manage it,” Eliam says. “You were the one who suggested a bunch of advisors to help out ages ago, to make it even easier, remember?"

"I... don't think anything I said back then can be trusted,” Oren says quietly.

"Advisors do sound like a good idea, though,” Gwen adds.

"Well, really it doesn't make sense for one person to make all the decisions.”

"Well, that's why we'll be working together,” Gwen smiles.

"You're really trying to make being king sound unappealing though, huh?” Eliam says, giving him a half smile. “...You know that even if we're successful with this plan, we'll still talk and be friends and everything, right?"

"I know that,” Oren frowns. “I just don't think you should decide to be king on a whim when we don't even know what it entails. Or if that's what's best for Iquai. We're not even qualified to decide whether or not there should be a king, let alone appoint one. We should wait and think about the best solution, rather than planning for something that's probably a bad idea."

"I think we'd often seek the counsel of the other Children, so I agree. I can't imagine you all wouldn't be around if you wanted to be there." Gwendolyn says, giving Oren a serious look. "It's not really a whim anymore, is it? We've been thinking and talking about it for weeks now. As for whether or not Iquai needs a king, well, up until recently it has always had one. I don't see any reason why going back to a monarchy is so strange, when the only reason it changed was because a corrupt faction gained control of a brutish army. If King Rodrick had any surviving descendants, I'd be happy to support them, but I don't believe the Rorgh were generous enough to allow that. Which is why I believe Eliam is destined for it. The Maker could have chosen any time to bring back the Children of Destiny, but He chose now. Why else, if not to bring back a leader of the people, one who will triumph over the corrupt Elyde? Who is better to appoint someone than The Maker Himself? We won't have time to think about it after the Elyde has been defeated. Unless you wish the country to fall into chaos while we wait potential weeks or even months leaderless."

Oren nods, closing his eyes and thinking about her words. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to make him king while we decide what to do... That way if he hates it or we come up with something better, we can change things."

"Alright, that's fair,” Eliam agrees. “But I doubt I'll hate being king. ...But hey, we're supposed to be celebrating tonight, right? These are pretty heavy topics for our big welcome home party,” he grins.

"Yes, exactly. Maybe another drinking game, like on the boat?" Gwen offers, topping everyone's glass off.

Oren frowns slightly, but after a moment, shrugs. "What do you want to play?"

"...Hey, do you still have that stuff you gave Herb?” Eliam asks. “Or did you run out?"

"...What? I have some,” Oren answers, looking at him confused. “Why?"

"I mean... It's been a pretty long two weeks. A little won't knock us out if we put some in our wine."

"...Oh, um... If you want?"

Eliam grins, pulling Oren's bag over to him and digging through it.

"What is it, exactly?" Gwendolyn asks, raising her eyebrow.

"It's poppyseed oil, basically...” Oren explains. “It reduces pain or puts someone to sleep. You put it on wounds or give it to someone who needs surgery, that sort of thing."

"It's supposed to just make you feel sort of... calm and happy I guess, in small doses,” Eliam adds. Oren pulls his bag back, and pulls out a vial.

“I... suppose I'll make sure we have what we need to play,” Gwen says, standing up from the table. “Excuse me.”

Oren measures some of the oil to Eliam's glass of wine, then adds some to his own.

He moves to put some into Gwendolyn's glass, but Eliam places his hand over it. "Let her decide if she wants some when she gets back, okay?"

"Oh, okay,” he answers, confused. "I thought we were all going to try it?”

"Yeah, but... In general, you don't want to put things in people's drinks when they're not there. I don't think this is exactly good for you, either... But it should make the evening more fun, especially if you're going to keep bringing up how much work taking the throne will be."

"Well, we're probably just going to fall asleep quicker... And why isn't it good for me? I don't have to drink it, especially if she isn't," Oren frowns. "And yes, being king is hard. Do you think it's easy? ...I'm sorry I'm trying to talk you out of it, I'll stop if you are really sure. I'll support you no matter what."

Eliam smiles at him. "No, you don't have to drink it. It's pretty addictive, but one night of it won't kill you. Up to you. And... no, I don't think it will be easy, obviously, I just... If you're planning to stick with Minerva, it's not like we can just be healers together instead, later."

"We can all be together, she can come with us,” Oren says gently. “We can do anything we want. As long as we're all happy, I don't care where we are or what happens to everybody else. ...Maybe Elise and Heather can live near us too.. And Gwen, if she still wants to marry you, regardless of the king thing... I just don't want you to decide to do something like that and be stuck. I mean...” he lowers his voice to a whisper, looking around to make sure Gwendolyn is still gone. “Do you really want to rule? Or do you just want money and women, and to make your father regret kicking you out?"

Eliam looks away, thinking as he swirls his wine around his glass. He downs it quickly before answering. "Money, I guess. I mean, it'd be nice to not have to worry about it anymore. So you'd still stay with me then, when all of this is over? What if Minerva doesn't want you to?"

"She can decide,” Oren answers. “I don't know how to choose, but I won't abandon you when you made plans first. I hope she stays with us... You'll never be poor, king or not. We'll make lots of money as healers, I promise. I mean, we would... if you wanted." Oren moves closer, putting his arm aroud his lower back to steady him. “Are you okay?”

Eliam nods, leaning on his shoulder. "Okay. But don't tell Gwen, alright? Especially not tonight. We don't another episode like when Elise left us in Thirshalon. It's better to worry about killing that monster first."

Oren nods smiling. “Is it working?”

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, I'm not completely sure, but it seems like it. Are you going to try some? It might make you feel less anxious around everyone.”

"...Oh, maybe... I think I'll wait... I don't want Gwendolyn to come back and find us sleeping. I don't want her to get the wrong idea,” Oren smiles.

"I mean, we share a tent most nights,” Eliam slurs slightly. “I think if any of them were going to get the wrong idea, they already would have. ...I do want to help iquai though, I guess,” he adds. “But I mean... It's not a waste of my abilities and everything as a Child if I don't become king, is it? I mean... I can still support Gwen's bid. So that's okay, right?"

"It's not a waste, so do whatever you want,” Oren answers, leaning in and whispering. “I don't think she should be in charge either though. We should pick a few people to be in charge together."

Eliam nods, closing his eyes. "I mean... She can do it. I don't really care. She does genuinely want to help people, so I'm sure she'd be good at it."

"Then she can be one of the people we choose. But we can discuss the details later, we shouldn't decide anything while you're like this and the girls aren't here to weigh in,” Oren smiles. “There's plenty of time."

"Oh... Yeah, okay. I mean I don't know if Elise should decide. I know she says she's our age, but... Minerva can help if she wants, though. You should try some of this,” he offers, somewhat unfocused. “It might make you less anxious. Then you can enjoy our party. I mean, we saved the whole town! We're amazing, right?"

"Yes, we're amazing. I'm not anxious, I mean maybe a little. It's nice sitting here like this with you. Elise can have a vote, I think it's okay. It doesn't matter. She can be sensible sometimes, honestly. She's just not great in a crisis."

Gwendolyn returns to the table, holding a few empty glasses. "Look who I found, at the bar!" she announces, smiling. Minerva smiles as well, placing some bottles on the table. She waves Elise over, who takes a seat next to her.

"I'll tell you this about my hometown," Minerva nearly shouts over the din of the frolicking townsfolk. "Tezef folk know how to celebrate." She downs half her beer and signals for a second.

Elise half-smiles at her. "Sure you don't want to take it a little slower? The night is long."

Minerva shrugs. "It's not every day you return home and defeat an evil snake deity. Or, you know. Part of it."

"Heroes dont have to take it slow,” Eliam slurs happily. “And we're the best heroes."

Minerva holds up her glass to clink against Oren. "We're not bad, at that!"

Oren smiles at her, holding his glass.

"So. Who's up for a game?" Gwen offers, shuffling a deck of cards and setting them on the table.

Elise cringes a little and pushes back from the table. "Actually, it's... kind of difficult to be back in a populated town again. It's been a while. Would it be rude to leave for a while?"

Minerva pats her shoulder. "Pretty sure we can do anything we want, tonight. See you soon?" The girl nods and moves to rise.

Oren nods at Elise as she leaves, and pushes his spiked glass of wine to the end of the table, pouring himself a new one.

Minerva tilts her head. "You not gonna finish that?" She reaches out to take it.

"It has opium in it,” he answers simply.

"Oh," she says, a little disappointed. "Thanks for the heads- uhh... wait. Why?"

Oren shrugs, nodding at Eliam.

"We had a bunch left over from the... you know. the guy. we killed that guy? We drugged him for a while,” Eliam answers, laying his head on his arms on the table. “And Oren wouldn't shut up about how hard being king would be."

Gwendolyn raises her eyebrow as she sits, her smile fading.

"A little soured on the hard work of it all?" Minerva says, amused.

"So...what game do you want to play, Gwendolyn?” Oren asks. “Er.. Lady..."

"Oren did finally come around though, at least for at the start when the Elyde is gone and there's no other government. Though I don't think Eliam is going to dislike being king," she smiles at him, and takes a glass for herself. "Its simple. Each turn, you fill the glass up with whatever wine or liquor you want, that you'd be willing to drink. And then you guess a color, red or black, and draw a card. If the card doesn't match the color you chose, you drink. If it does, it goes to the next person, who adds to the glass, and chooses again.

"I'll choose...red."

She draws a black card, sets it in a discard pile, and empties her glass.

"Um... black,” Eliam says, slowly sitting up. “Should we... we should decide what to do tomorrow too, right? We can see your house, Minerva."

He pulls a black card, and leans back in his seat.

"Red," Minerva says, pulling a red card. "Yeah, there's, uh... there's not much to see," she admits quietly. She takes a deep drink.

"Oh... it was nice in your dream. Your mom was really nice,” Eliam smiles at her. “What happened to it?"

"The... orcs demolished the ground level the night my mother died,” she answers quietly. “Dad took me away and we never went back. I'm not sure if anyone moved in or if people just let it... be, as a reminder. I'm not sure what we'd find there, honestly."

"...Black?" Oren says quietly after a moment, pulling a black card. "So... if you guess wrong you have to drink?"

"Well... yes," Gwen answers nervously. "Please be black,” she says, pulling a red card.

Minerva takes another swig of her drink. "Seriously, though. We need to start thinking about tomorrow. News of what we did will spread quickly. Kunalchusi will hear. So will the orcs and the Elyde. We might want to get back underground and get to the Lyriad."

"We should leave right away for Ushad,” Oren agrees. “Can we take a boat?"

"No more orcs,” Eliam mumbles. “I don't ever want to see an orc again."

"And we should definitely try not to tell anyone else who we are,” Oren continues. “Maybe we can leave tomorrow."

"I think it's still going to spread, from here,” Gwen says, making a face as she drinks from the shared cup. “You won't be able to keep it a secret anymore."

Minerva leans back in her chair. "There's usually a couple of orcs on the ferries up and down the Sage's. If we're planning to leave with no one finding us, we might want a caravan."

"Whatever you think is best,” Oren smiles, pushing the shared glass to the edge of the table next to the drugged one. "Can we play a game where we can drink good things?"

"Did anyone bring real money for a ferry?” Eliam asks.

"We can exchange the money we stole for real money tomorrow before we leave, and buy anything we'd want," Oren assures him.

"I'm sure I could pull an odd job or two tomorrow morning and get some," Minerva says. "I'll still have connections."

"I have money,” Gwendolyn shrugs.

"We just need enough to get to Ushad, but it would be easy to trace Thirshalon money back to us,” Oren points out. “If we ask someone here, while they're grateful to us for saving the town, they might help us exchange it discretely. That way we can just melt the gold down and take real money, and not have to worry about that anymore."

"It's going to be hard to exchange all that gold, isn't it?" Gwen smiles at him.

Oren takes the cards, shuffling them before setting them back down. "Probably, but we can hopefully get enough to last us a while. We can spend some too, if we need anything. Horses are expensive, aren't they?"

"We might have more luck exchanging the money in Ushad..." Minerva muses. "Larger town, more blacksmiths for melting it down."

"If you say so, I don't know what most towns have really,” Oren shrugs, flipping a card in front of everyone. “If Agrilodo had that much gold why wouldn't Tezef?" Minerva recieves a four, Eliam a six, Gwen a four, and Oren a seven.

Minerva looks at her four. "Good or bad?"

"According to Elise, you both drink,” Oren answers. "And I ask a question."

"Fine by me," she says, drinking.

"Ah, okay... who would win in a fight, Elise or Eliam? But, Eliam is... how he is right now. She can't hear and he won't remember, so feel free to be honest,” Oren smiles.

Minerva elbows Eliam good-naturedly. "I've got a silver on Elise."

"Hey... what? No way,” he slurs. “I can stop time."

"It's hard to beat that,” Gwen smiles. “I've got to go with Eliam."

Minerva winks. "I dunno, she's been working hard lately. I think she could take you in arm wrestling at least."

Eliam shakes his head emphatically. "Where is she? I don't know where she is. I could win, though."

"She stepped outside,” Minerva answers him, smiling slightly. Eliam stands to get her, stumbling slightly, and Gwendolyn gently pulls him back down into his chair.

"So who's turn is it next to deal?" Gwen asks.

"Just flip one,” Oren answers, taking a card from the deck and pulling a six. Gwen pulls a six as well, Minerva pulls a two, and Eliam pulls a two.

"I guess we each ask a question and you both... answer... each? And drink?” Oren shrugs. Minerva and Eliam both drink.

"You may ask first if you like... milady," Oren offers politely. "Or do you prefer Lady Gwendolyn?"

"Gwen is fine. It's what my friends call me,” she answers smiling.

A citizen nervously approaches the table and speaks to Oren. "U-uh... excuse me. Sir. A few of us saw your deeds today and, well... We wanted to say thank you. To all of you! But, well... we don't have... much to offer." He shuffles his feet awkwardly. There's a medium-sized box in his hands. "I hope you'll accept this on behalf of the Children from all of us." He puts the box on the table and walks away, face red.

Oren slides the box to the middle.

"Aren't we the Children?” Eliam asks, poking at the box before resting his head on the table again.

"I hope it's food,” Oren says, slowly opening it. Inside is a small cake, modestly decorated. Oren cuts five equal pieces, and passes them out around the table.

"Uh, so... Gwen, then,” he continues. “I guess you can ask them a question first, if you like."

"Sure,” she smiles. “What kind of relationship do you both want with Oren?"

Minerva regards Eliam at length, then returns to her beer as she quickly says, "A lasting one.”

Oren smiles, and tries to flag down a nearby waiter.

"He's great,” Eliam smiles happily. “I mean, he's my best friend. I told him most people don't do that sort of thing but he still sleeps with me? Even though he said he wasn't even attracted to me. It's pretty nice. He's the best."

Minerva side-eyes Eliam. "I... wait. What?"

"Oh, I mean... not like that,” Eliam slurs. “He just cuddles me at night? I don't know. He can do what he wants."

Minerva is momentarily speechless.

"I'm not really sure what I expected, but..." Gwendolyn trails off.

Eliam pushes himself up, seeing Oren struggle, and flags down a waiter. One walks to the table and begins collecting empty glasses.

"Um, can we have some glasses of water?" Oren requests politely. “Please?"

"Certainly," the waiter says with an incline of his head.

Eliam gets his attention, smiling at him charmingly. The waiter eyes him up and down quickly before walking off, a faint smile playing at his lips.

After he leaves, Eliam looks around the table, smiling brightly. "It is good to be home."

Oren leans into Minerva, whispering. "You don't have to answer, you can drink and skip it, but she'll hate his answer..." Loudly, he asks, "How many people have you had sex with, Eliam? Tell us all about it.”

"The question was for both of them,” Gwendolyn points out.

"Yes but he'll want to answer first,” Oren says, leaning back in his chair."I assume."

"Oh man... I mean... easier to count per town, I'd imagine,” Eliam slurs, leaning back in his own chair. “I've traveled a lot. And I'm pretty popular, needless to say. Dozens, easily."

Minerva raises an eyebrow but smiles into her pint as she finishes it.

Oren smiles, flipping a one. Eliam pulls a three, but before Minerva can pull, Gwen stops her. "And you, Minerva?"

"She drank, she doesn't have to answer,” Oren answers.

Minerva winks and flips a card, pulling a seven. Gwendolyn, frowning, pulls a three.

"Hm..." Minerva trails off, thinking. Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly so, as she asks, "How many times have you kissed a boy?"

"Me? Um..." Oren looks down, thinking. "I don't know what you count as a kiss, like on the cheek? At least two, I guess? But real kisses, I never have."

Minerva immediately looks at Eliam.

"I kissed him on the cheek at least once, I think,” Oren says, following her gaze. “And Votig. I can't think of any other times, really."

"We came close, once... but you said I passed out,” Eliam sighs. “What a shame."

"I don't think that's what happened, exactly,” Oren says, flustered. “And it's definitely not 'a shame,' I mean..." He looks away quickly, pulling a new card, a two. Gwendolyn pulls a one, Eliam pulls a three, and Minerva pulls a five.

"So," she says, looking at Gwen. "A lot of fun sex talk tonight. How about you? Any conquests lately?"

The waiter places four glasses of water on the table. “Thanks,” Oren nods at him, passing them around. "Do you have any um.. food?"

The waiter should have stepped away but he's eyeing Eliam. "Hm? Oh!" he shakes himself. "Yes. Certainly. What would you like?"

"Or... a menu?” Oren asks awkwardly.

"I will get you a menu, yes." He walks off.

"I don't really have conquests, just relationships,” Gwendolyn answers. “So, technically, no."

Minerva scoffs. "Technicalities. You know what I meant!"

"Of course I do," Gwen answers, drinking. She pulls a card, again pulling a one. Minerva pulls a four, Eliam pulls a two, and Oren pulls a ten.

"How many children do you want?" Oren asks.

"I'd like to have two,” Gwendolyn answers.

Eliam makes a face, downing the rest of his drink.

Oren smiles, and pulls another ten. Gwendolyn pulls another one, and Eliam and Minerva pull a two.

"Did you stack the deck?" She asks, frowning.

"I don't know how to do whatever that is,” Oren shrugs.

"Where is that waiter?” Eliam asks drunkenly, looking around. “He was cute"

"He's getting a menu so we can eat some dinner,” Oren answers. Eliam nods, and puts his head back on the table.

"Gwen, what is your favourite book?" Oren asks.

"Favorite book...? Probably Temptations of the Past. It's a romance novel about a wizard who travels back in time, and ends up falling in love, even though he can't stay long."

The night continues to wear on. The party goers gradually slip out, one by one. The staff offer free rooms for the night. Eliam excuses himself from the table, stumbling to the bar to talk more to the waiter. Oren and the others eat their dinner, continuing to chat as the night goes on.

Later, Eliam and the waiter leave the inn. Oren and Minerva excuse themselves and go to find their rooms.

"I wonder if they're still engaged, now that she knows what he's really like,” Oren muses as they find one of their doors.

"W-were they engaged?!" she says in shock.

"I think so,” he answers.

"...And you're still cuddling him?!"

"Well, he's only been... engaged technically since that dance, I think?” Oren explains. “And why does that matter? ...And I don't think it's... 'cuddling'... that sounds a bit more romantic."

"It's, uh... just an unusual choice of... pasttime,” Minerva says awkwardly.

"What do you mean? It's not like we're awake, we just sleep together. I slept with you and you didn't mind"

Oren uses the key on the room, tossing their things inside.

Minerva puts a hand on her head. "I... okay. Yes, but... when you're... not planning on being romantic with someone, it's different than when you are.”

"I guess, but why is it bad? He said it was okay.. and it's better than being alone. And I wasn't planning on being romantic with you, that was when I was still... um... you know.”

"No, I'm not sure that I do," she says, her voice oddly dangerous.

"I meant...” He stammers. “It was before I... got better, so... I didn't really think about you that way. I mean, you were the same as Eliam to me then, because I didn't care about things that didn't matter at the time. I mean, I didn't notice you were attractive. ...I don't know if that makes sense."

"I guess in fairness, there's not much in our lives that makes sense,” she sighs, leaning in and kissing Oren on the cheek. "Good night, Oren."

He looks around, and hugs her. She returns the embrace, then turns for her own room.

"Hey, wait," he says, grabbing her wrist. "Eliam isn't going to sleep with me tonight, so do you want to?"

Minerva regards him with extreme suspicion, then adds, "...Clarify."

"Well... I meant... sleeping literally...” Oren smiles awkwardly. “Unless you want to stay awake."

"Hm,” she smiles, amused. “Well. It's a start." She leads him into the room and closes the door.

### The Group Explores Tezef

Morning breaks. The party gradually gathers around a table, with a free lunch by the gratitude of the inn owners. Minerva begins to focus the group on task. "Where are we going, how are we getting there, and what do we intend to do?" She asks.

"We're going to Ushad,” Oren answers. "...We're... taking a boat? Or a cart with horses. And when we get there... we're going to visit the Lyriad, I think."

Eliam nods in agreement, wincing slightly before returning to his glass of water. "Do you think they'd give us a boat, too? Or a cart?"

"If we played the Child card? Probably,” Minerva answers. “But that also increases how quickly our story will spread, I'm sure.”

"We have money. Or... gold. We can trade it," Oren says.

Elise ponders, "So I guess the question is, are we going to be high profile and let the Elyde throw at us what they will, or try and sneak around?"

"Definitely sneak,” Oren nods.

"The Elyde might not even be able to do anything,” Gwen says. “The monster said he was going to Siraj, right? They're probably preoccupied."

"That won't stop the Rorgh from causing trouble,” Oren says, eating some of the food on the table. “They might have orders to look for us already."

"They were looking for you before already,” She continues. “I don't see why they would've stopped."

"I don't know if they'll recognize us, but they would have had some description if they asked around,” Oren adds. "Without Votig and Chompy we aren't as distinctive, and we've changed our clothes a bit... we just need to be discrete, and nobody will know who we are. And... maybe you can put Elise's hair up, Gwen?"

"Sure.”

"So.. wagon or boat?" He asks. "Minerva said something about... fairies... and orcs..."

"They were checking the roads back on the way to Fallowfield weeks ago, right?” Eliam asks quietly. “Do you think they're still doing that?” He raises an eyebrow at Oren. “I... what?"

"Fairies are... like elves,” Oren whispers, trying to explain. "Like they're small... and invisible... or...”

"If they've not found us in this time, they're probably going to think we're dead. At least, until the story gets to them. Also, what?" Minerva asks.

"Maybe we can take a boat and if orcs stop us, we just hide?" Oren shrugs. "We can get to Ushad on that river, and that'll be faster and more comfortable than a cart."

"If there's orcs on the water, they'll be on the roads too,” Gwen nods. “Might as well take the faster route."

"Let's be serious," Minerva said. "Orcs aren't really a threat anymore. The concern is if they keep spotting us. They can figure out our path and eventually word will reach Kunalchusi."

"They had that... army though, right?” Eliam asks. “Of zombies?"

"...Um, oh yeah. Minerva, do you remember that army you saw at Fallowfield?" Oren asks. "Were they all zombies, or just your dad?"

Minerva looks down. "I think I was trying not to think of that. They weren't all undead but... there must have been more than just him."

"Well, Zombies don't need to breathe so that might be harder to drown,” Oren says, thinking. “But we can still deal with it when we have to. So... are there a lot of ships that go from Tezef to Ushad? Would it be noticeable if one showed up? I'm sure the boat people wouldn't mind helping us hide from the orcs."

"We can try to fix you as well, if you want, Elise,” Eliam adds. “But it might backfire and make you unable to fight. I don't know."

Elise shakes her head. "Whatever this power is, I'll need it until Kunalchusi is no longer a threat to us. I'll bear it."

"There are plenty,” Minerva answers Oren. “It's a busy riverway. But there are always a couple of orcs on them for security so we'll have to watch our step."

"Is Poitín illegal everywhere?” Oren asks. “Like....moonshine? I mean, it's illegal to make it in the mountains, nobody with a license would bother, so..."

Minerva shrugs. "Regulated, sure. I'm sure there's an underground for it, though."

"Right so, how do they get it all the way here from the mountains? Maybe some ships are good at smuggling things, and... if we ask, maybe they can smuggle us?"

Minerva leans back to think. "It's finding those boats that would be the challenge..."

"But we can just ask the bars if they sell Poitín, and if they have it, they have a source... right?"

"I don't really think we need to be smuggled,” Gwen adds. “The orcs aren't looking for me. Everyone else can hide if they stop us, and I can deal with them."

"There'd be a crew to deal with them as well. But, you are.. distinctive, too,” Oren says. “It would be safer if we all hid. Or at least wore disguises."

"What do you mean, disguises?" Eliam asks.

"They're looking for a girl with long silver hair, the three of us, and a dwarf with a giant lizard,” he explains. “If we cover Elise's hair nobody will recognize us.”

"There's a certain amount of sense to that," Minerva says.

"Before you just looked like an ordinary person, really,” Oren continues. “I doubt the orcs are going to describe you beyond your hair color, maybe, and your gender. They won't know your hair is 'sort of reddish brownish' they'll just say brown. And Minerva is just some woman to them. My hair is different now, too. It's up, that's different enough for an orc, anyway. But we should still keep a low profile. And avoid orcs."

Eliam nods. "That makes sense. Really only Elise is easy to describe, I'd imagine."

"Back to wearing the hood, then, I guess," Elise says, raising it.

"And outside of Siraj they saw her eyes glowing purple and her hair whipping around, so... she's probably the one they're really sure if a child." Oren looks at Minerva. "Do you think you could find us a boat with a trustworthy crew who can avoid orcs if needed?"

"Maybe. It's a bit of a crapshoot. Once upon a time, I could for sure. Now... I mean, they sacked the abbey," she says with a regretful glance at Gwen. "I'm not sure anywhere is safe.

"Well, let's go try to exchange a little money. Then we'll find either a boat or a wagon, whatever is available and looks like the safest bet."

The group finishes breakfast, and packs up to leave. Minerva leads everyone down the streets to a sizable bank.

A teller greets the party. "Welcome. ... Are... are you...?" He looks at them curiously as though trying to place them.

Worldlessly, Oren places a handful of gold on the counter. "We'd like to exchange some gold, please."

Eliam shrugs, placing another stack alongside his.

His expression chances to suspicion.

"For... real money," Oren clarifies.

The teller picks up some of the gold and bites it, studying the impression. "Where is this from? I've never seen this before."

"It's... from... a mine," Oren explains awkwardly. "This is just how they distribute it there. But we need it exchanged so we can spend it."

He begins reading some of the words on the coins. "I barely recognize any of this." He flips one of the coins over. "T...hirshalon? What... What is this?!"

Eliam raises an eyebrow, and quietly puts his share of the gold back into his bag.

"That's the name of the town it's from,” Oren answers quickly, giving Eliam a look to step in.

"That's rather what concerns me," he replies.

"We found it in the back of some mine?” Eliam shrugs. “We're not entirely sure where it came from beyond what's written on it... but we're sure it's very old. Taking it here was a bit of a long shot honestly; we can take it elsewhere and try to get it appraised."

He looks at them closely. "If that's true... do you realize what you've found here?"

"Gold," Oren answers. "Can you give us real money for it?"

"Yes," he says quickly. "How much do you have?"

"661 gold,” Oren gestures to everyone else to put their share on the counter as well.

"I will have to consult the manager before determining how much we can offer you for it," he says. "Please wait here."

"We should only trade a few,” Eliam says quietly when he leaves. “These are worth way more than whatever he'll offer. We can get more than enough money from just one or two coins."

"I think he's right,” Gwen adds. “I could tell something was off when he left. It's worth holding on to it for now."

Minerva says, "I'm in favour of keeping everything we can. Let's give him a handful for a few dozen gold. He sees the value of them."

"You handled that weapons shopkeeper pretty well, Elise... can you handle this too?" Eliam asks, looking back at her.

Elise winks at Eliam behind Minerva's back.

Oren pushes some of the coins back into his bag, leaving some on the counter. "I guess money from Thirshalon is rare, huh?"

The teller comes back with his manager. "I understand you have some gold to exchange?" the manager says.

Oren slides two coins over to him. "How much can we get for these rare Thirshalon coins?"

The manager picks them up. "Fascinating. Are you claiming that they are coins from the ancient land of Thirshalon?"

Elise says, "They're minted and printed with that location on them. Hard to imagine someone going to such lengths to fake a metal coin," she points out.

"Indeed," the manager says, "but in the banking business you can never be too careful. I understand you have many of these coins to exchange?"

Oren reaches into his bag to pull out more, but Eliam stops him and motions at the money on the counter.

The manager notices him reach into his bag. "Two here, and more besides?" he says.

"At least a stack of a few hundred, sir," the teller says.

"I guess it depends on what you're willing to offer us for them,” Eliam answers.

"Surely a piece of history is worth a few gold each, sirs," Elise adds.

"Perhaps," the teller replies, "though value is derived from exclusivity, and there is little point in my giving you ten gold for a handful of coins if you keep several hundred and give them out to others... or have them stolen."

"This is all we have,” Oren says, pouring his share back out of his bag.

The teller's face grows severe. "And the other three-hundred?" he asks.

He shakes his head. “Nope."

"What do you mean, 'Nope?'"

Eliam shrugs, smiling at him. "You must have miscounted, sir."

"We're kind of in a hurry so can you just give us money?" Oren asks, annoyed.

The manager crosses his arms. "My... bank teller... miscounted. Really. By hundreds."

"Why do you care? Can't you just give us what they're worth?” Oren frowns. “I bet there are other banks who won't make us explain ourselves."

Both teller and manager look at Oren when he directly asks for money and look at each other. "I do believe we're just about done here," the manager says. "You can take your scam coins with you as you leave, or don't."

"Fine,” Oren responds, pushing the money back into his bag and leading everyone outside.

"Well, that could have gone better," Minerva says once the door closes.

"Well, how much money does everyone have? Non Thirshalon, that is,” Gwendolyn asks.

"Er..." Eliam pulls out a coin and sighs. "1 silver."

Oren turns around, and looks at the large sign reading Royal Bank of Iquai. "Eliam, when you write the story of our adventures make sure you make this bank sound awful."

He nods. "They're lucky we don't burn the bank down. It wouldn't be the first building we've destroyed."

Minerva looks over her shoulder. "Can you... say that a little more quietly? We're heroes in the city right now, I'd hate for us to have sentiment turn so quickly. We've got a valuable thing going for us."

Oren sighs. "Let's just go buy a scarf and get on a boat... or a wagon... or whatever."

"Destroying buildings should stay in Thirshalon, I think,” Gwendolyn agrees as they continue into the city. “I don't think a future king should be destroying stuff he's just going to need to rebuild later."

"Yeah... Okay. I wasn't being serious, anyways,” Eliam says. “Well, mostly, anyways. So... 1 silver is it, then? Is that enough? ... Maybe if someone in town needs some healing or something, we can make some quick money?"

Oren nods. "Minerva said we could find work..?"

"Well, I have 8 gold, including the silver I gave you before,” Gwendolyn says.

"8 gold? Nice,” Eliam grins happily. “That should be enough for a ferry trip at least, right?"

"It should be,” she nods.

They walk toward the market and find a general clothing store. There are some scarves and fine fabrics toward the rear.

"Elise, which one do you want?" Oren asks, leading her to the back.

She studies them before taking a light purple one. "I think it goes well with my hair... I'm not really good for that sort of thing, though."

"Well... maybe something less obvious,” Oren smiles. "I mean... anything but purple, really." He takes a green one, holding it up to her.

"Hmm..." she holds it up to her head. "Alright. Let's do it."

"How much for this scarf?" Oren asks, leading Elise and meeting Gwendolyn at the counter.

"Oh, that's beautiful fabric, isn't it? 7 copper,” she answers, folding it up.

“Thank you,” Gwendolyn says, handing her a silver and refusing change.

"Thank you very much," she says.

Elise takes the scarf in her hands and runs her hands over it. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Gwen. And you, too, Oren."

"You're welcome,” Gwen smiles at her. Oren carefully wraps the cloth around her hair, covering everything but her face.

Elise catches a glimpse of herself in the reflection of a shop window. She tilts her head slightly as if growing accustomed the look, and then she realizes that the headscarf is muffling the noise of the world around her. She grabs onto Gwen and hugs her closely. "This is wonderful."

"That green's a good color for you, too,” Gwen adds, hugging her back.

She smiles and nods, then practically skips down the street in step with the party.

"So, to a boat?" Minerva asks.

She begins walking toward the docks. She leads on for about fifteen minutes before she suddenly stops at an intersection. She looks to the right and stares up the road.

"Do you remember the way?" Oren asks, concerned.

"I... yeah, I... do, sorry, just... I... um... I lived down that road. I mean, not that one, that one, just... this road, then the next one, and ... I dunno. I suddenly just... wondered what it was like there now."

"We can go look, if you'd like,” Eliam offers. “I'm sure no one would mind"

She takes Oren's hand and starts leading him up the road toward her house.

“I can find us a boat,” Gwendolyn offers as they leave. Eliam nods, and he and Elise follow Minerva.

### Minerva Visits her Home

Minerva leads on, and eventually they come to a turn that brings them to a road that is strikingly similar to the one from her lavender dream.

She soon stops before a house in extreme disrepair. Windows are shattered. Half of the room has collapsed. The door is askew, off its hinges. The lawn is unkempt, and the picket fence is missing slats every so often. In front of the walkway leading to the house, there is a sign.

"On this night, 16 Nuvea, 7413, Cerena Cosette was executed by the high and noble Rorgh Clans for treason against the Divine Elyde Senate. She was found guilty of abetting a known terrorist. Her house remains untouched from that night as a reminder to all of the high price of assaulting the laws of freedom and justice we stand for."

Minerva kneels on the ground before the sign. Her hands are clenched atop it as she reads and rereads it. Her knuckles are white.

"We can take the sign down," Eliam says quietly.

Oren puts his hand on her shoulder, and Minerva leans her cheek against his hand and closes her eyes. "I... I want to go in but I don't know if I can."

"Okay, we don't have to,” Oren says gently. “Let's go look, Eliam can take the sign down."

"No," she says, "Leave it. If a sign suddenly disappears after fifteen years, it'll be suspicious, especially the day after the Children appeared in town."

She allows Oren to help her stand, draws a steadying breath, and begins to walk into the house.

"Really the sign is just a reminder that terrorists exist and the Rorgh have trouble stopping them, and have to murder innocent women as a result,” Oren consoles her as they walk through the yard. "So it's not so bad."

Minerva floats into the house, dreamlike. She steps gingerly through the doorway, careful not to disturb the door where it lays across the threshold. Elise and Eliam slip in quietly behind her. Minerva looks around. The layout of the house looks identical to her recent dream, but everything is covered in a thick layer of dust. Rain has dampened everything, leaving the smell of mold and mildew to float within its walls.

Minerva walks through each room in turn. The party sees the remains of the living room, the kitchen, the hallways... and then she freezes at the stairs.

"I was... 11? Maker, I barely remember," she begins. "The orcs were coming. We knew that. Dad gave us a letter to warn us, but we weren't quick enough getting out. Mom saw orcs far down the street from her upstairs window. She knew we couldn't escape."

Minerva gingerly takes a few steps up the stairs. "Mom was a... a healer, in her own way. She specialized in herbs and powders. She created concoctions to affect the body. Numb the senses, if you needed surgery. Medications to alleviate the symptoms of colds. Powders to bring on silent, dreamless sleep. She always kept some on hand."

A few more steps. "Mom knew. She knew." Her eyes water. "The last time I ever saw my mother, she stepped up behind me, asked me to turn around to help her with something, and the second I turned, she blew her sleeping powder into my face. I coughed and... and breathed it in."

Nearly there. "I tried. I tried so hard to fight it. I must have known, in that moment, what she was doing, but her medicines were so strong. Always so well made. I stumbled against her and she held me as I fell asleep in her arms, one last time."

Her foot reaches the top of the stairs. "There's an attic in her bedroom. A tile can be moved aside and there's enough room for a child. Once I was asleep, she got up on the bed and lifted me up there. I don't know how she could have possibly done it... Strength born of adrenaline and knowing that if she didn't I would die. A mother's final act of love."

She opens her parent's room. The roof on this side of the building remains solid. The room looks in relatively good condition, considering the rest of the house. "My mother died to save my life. Right here. When I woke up, I could see through a slit in the ceiling tile. My mother's body lay below me." She points to the floor, the bloodstains turned to a pale, deep brown flaking off the wood. "I screamed. I couldn't help it. Lyriad operatives had arrived at that point and heard me. My father found me... and mom. I think I cried and screamed for a week. I can't remember sleeping.

"When they asked me what had happened, I told them I had been awake. I... I didn't want them to think I had just... slept through this woman's final, bravest moments. I wanted what she did to be... to be known. I thought my being awake, making people think I had witnessed it, would make it more... meaningful. Better."

She kneels to the floor and touches one finger to the flaking blood. "I swore then to exterminate every orc in this world, and every damned member on that Maker forsaken Senate."

"We will,” Oren smiles. “Don't worry."

She turns from the room. "I'm sorry for taking time to come here. I know there's nothing for us here, but... I... I needed to see."

"Of course,” Eliam says. “I'm just... I'm sorry that happened."

Elise hugs her. "We're all here for you. Even Gwen. You know her, she's just focused. But we all want you to be okay and to have the chance to be here."

Minerva holds her back. "Thank you." The rogue moves down the steps and looks toward the backyard. "We used to keep chickens out here, you know. I had to keep the henhouse clean."

She steps out into the backyard and freezes. In the backyard, in the shade of a large tree so as to be invisible from the road, there are two gravestones.

She advances closer and kneels.

One reads, "Cerena Cosette. Loving Mother. Devoted Wife. Light of her Community."

The other: "Minerva Cosette. Beautiful Daughter. Wonderful Child. Hope of our Future."

Minerva's eyes well. "I... what?"

"I... they must have thought you died too, at the same time,” Eliam says.

Oren sighs. "I swear to the Maker, if you're actually a zombie I'm going to be pretty upset.” He takes her arm, checking her pulse.

Minerva doesn't notice him checking her pulse for about twenty seconds, then realizes what he's doing and pulls her wrist away. "Wh-stop that! I'm not dead!"

"Just checking.”

Minerva thinks on Eliam's comment. "They must have... the Lyriad wouldn't have left a trail."

Elise grabs Eliam and Oren's shoulders. "Shh. Freeze." She points around the corner of the house. On freezing, they hear a rustling of foliage and footsteps.

Oren and Eliam pull Minerva behind the henhouse. Elise follows. Oren hugs her close, trying to comfort her.

Once hidden, they are able to peek through the henhouse mesh. Minerva sinks into Oren's embrace and breathes somewhat raggedly but relatively quietly.

An old, old man appears around the corner of the house. He looks to be in his seventies or eighties. He walks incredibly slowly. He is carrying what looks like a bucket in one hand, and flowers in the other.

He sets the bucket and flowers down beside the graves, then walks toward the kitchen. He grabs a small stool and places it beside the gravestones and sits slowly.

"Do you recognize him?" Eliam asks under his breath.

He withdraws a rag from the bucket. The rag is wet. He begins to gradually work the stone of the grave, cleaning it.

"I... maybe? It... it's been fifteen years, it's hard to tell... and his face is... droopier. And more wrinkled. But... it kind of looks like old man Farson?"

"Do we like him?" Oren asks.

She smiles softly. "We do. He gave me a necklace once. I helped gather his sheep because his back was bothering him all week long. He was the sweetest old man... And oh, Maker, he thinks I've been dead fifteen years."

Oren points to the green necklace around her neck. "This one? Is he Lyriad?"

She nods. "This one. He's not Lyriad. The stone in the necklace was replaced with a teleport stone when I joined. But the setting was from him, all those years ago."

Eliam stands up slowly, walking around the coop. Oren holds Minerva back, waiting to see what happens.

Eliam hears the old man singing softly to himself. There are a few tears trickling down his cheeks that are noticeable as Eliam moves closer.

"Your house is really nice by the way,” Oren whispers. “I mean it... was a little nicer in the dream, obviously."

Minerva answers, "Yes... It's nicer in my dreams, too."

"Did your mother keep that powder in the house? Or a recipe? We should find it."

She gives him a look, then looks back at the old man.

I sought out, once, the calm springtime air
I sought out, once, the bright flowers fair
I sought out, once, the noble skies blue
But always I sought out mem'ries of you

These old bones, they shiver
This old heart, it quivers
Of old souls, their bleakness we don
But cold is the evening
We feel as the leaving
Of loved ones rolls ceaselessly on

"Hello?" Eliam calls out once his song is done.

The man turns suddenly, grabbing his back as he twists. "W-who are you?! What are you doing here?!"

“Sorry, sorry," Eliam says, holding out his hands. "Are you... do you look after these graves?"

He narrows his eyes, but turns from him. "Yes. Fifteen years, I have, since two of the finest people I've ever met died here. Once a week, a few flowers and a scrubbing. Keeps their memory alive. Keeps the spirit of good people alive, what we all need. I sing a song or two to them. Hope to keep them happy. Let them know they were loved," he says. "We all deserve that much." He goes back to scrubbling.

Eliam nods. "You look like you're doing a good job... thank you,” he says, looking back at the coop for the others to join him.

Minerva stands suddenly and walks around the house. "M-Mr. Farson?"

She walks towards him. "Is... is it you?"

He turns slowly. "Been old Geoff Farson for a good number of years. But you..." He stands with a grunt of effort and moves toward Minerva. "You... remind me of someone."

He steps left and right once, looking at Minerva from different angles. His eyes narrow. "Who are you?"

Minerva exchanges a glance with Eliam, and he shrugs.

"I..." She pulls out her necklace. "My name... It's me, Mr. Farson. My name is Minerva Cosette. And I'm so, so sorry I've been away for fifteen years."

The elder man falls back sideways into Eliam. He nearly bowls them both over. "You... What are you playing at?!"

"Sir, sir, please," Minerva says, pleading somewhat. "Look at this. This right here, do you see?" She withdraws her necklace and shows it to him. "You gave this to me. I was... nine? Ten? Your back was sore. You couldn't herd your sheep and-"

"And Minerva... and you... helped me. For a week. In the rain, some days, and the mud," he whispers. "Am... are you a ghost? A spirit? Am I dying? Are you taking me across?" he asks in a wavering voice.

Farson steps forward toward Minerva. His tears are coming faster now. "Is... is it... you? Really? Alive, all this time?"

Minerva moves forward and gently puts her arms around him. "I'm sorry," she sobs. "I'm so sorry."

The two embrace in the shade of the Cosette backyard; Farson weeps for the granddaughter he never had; Minerva for the life she never had. They both lose themselves in memories, spinning back to days gone by.

Eliam smiles at them, and returns to Oren and Elise behind the coop.

Oren watches them, then gently takes Elise's arm to try to pull her back to the house. "We need to find the recipe for that sleep powder. Maybe she had a book of recipes. That'd be useful, don't you think? Minerva would want her mother's work to be useful, right?"

Elise waves a hand at him impatiently. "You go if you want!" she hisses. "I'm staying around Minerva."

Oren looks at her, taken aback, as Eliam joins them. Oren shrugs, and leads him to the house instead.

"Hey, is she okay?” he asks, as they step into the ruined home.

"Yeah... sort of, I think,” Eliam answers. “Being here brought back a lot of bad memories, but seeing someone she used to consider family is really good for her."

"Good," Oren nods. "So I was thinking, maybe her mother had some apothecary stuff. Like a book of recipes. My master has one, with it you can make all sorts of potions. Maybe we can find it, she'd like that right?"

"Well... she'd either like that, or be incredibly mad at you for robbing what's essentially her grave,” Eliam shrugs. “Could go either way."

"Well, we should ask her. She might know where it is. When she's done." Oren looks back at them, raising an eyebrow. "That sleep powder sounds useful, she's lucky her mother thought to do that."

"Yeah... I mean, it kept her alive, at least. I'm glad that painting dream didn't have her knocked unconscious like that.” Eliam leans against the wall. “...It's good she got to see her home again, though."

Oren nods.

"We can ask her about it if you want, but... be careful about how you do it,” Eliam continues. “She'll probably be pretty sensitive about that kind of thing after coming here."

"Yeah, probably,” Oren sighs.

"Why's Elise so annoyed? I tried to get her to come over here and she got all huffy and stormed off," Oren asks, leading Eliam to the room inside.

"She's just worried about Minerva, don't worry about it. She's not actually mad, I don't think, she just acts like that."

"I hope not,” Oren sighs. “She said she wanted to be with Minerva, but I think if I were her I wouldn't want a bunch of people staring at me right now." He glances around idly, pausing to examine some tattered books. He crosses his arms, looking at the spacious kitchen and stairway leading to a second floor. "This house is nice, right?"

"I mean... a little worn down now, but I think so? Maybe?" Eliam shrugs. "How come?"

"I don't know, it seems nice to me. It's... pretty big. Do you think a house like this is expensive?"

"I'm not sure you should be asking *me* to estimate prices,” Eliam laughs. “But yeah, I'd imagine so. Surely everyone doesn't live in a two story house, at least?”

"I don't know. ...I didn't think she was, you know like... rich? Was your house this big?"

"Bigger, actually... but this does seem incredibly nice. Do all healers live like this? Or... do you think it's because her father helped found the Lyriad, maybe? ...Was your house like this?"

"Uh, not really. I lived in a tower remember? And I don't know if her father would have earned much from being in the Lyriad. They probably spend their money helping people and buying weapons to fight the orcs with. So it must be her mother's job that paid for it. Which is good news for us."

"I meant before the tower. And yeah, no kidding. This wouldn't be too bad to live in, really."

"I think it's nice,” Oren smiles. “Especially if it's what she's used to. You don't mind her living with us right? Or do you want your own house? I guess uh... Gwen might like that, huh?"

"I don't mind if Minerva lives with us, no.... Gwen though," Eliam sighs. "I don't know what to do. I mean, I can't marry her, right? That's crazy, right? I've only known her like, a month. And she's already talking about children and making me do all that work of ruling? I mean, I know I'm charming, but... I just don't get it. It's crazy, right?"

Oren nods. "Well, maybe you'll start to like her more? You just need to get to know her. But you probably shouldn't marry someone unless they make you happy."

"Yeah... I mean, she's really nice. But... I just don't know her. I don't know. I mean, she wants to marry down, which is surprising... I think she likes me a lot, so I feel bad about it, I guess. I really shouldn't have charmed her."

"I tried to warn you, but don't worry. I'm sure it'll be fine, just tell her the truth. Or don't, it doesn't matter. She didn't mind you running off to seduce that waiter." Oren tries to hide a smile. "How did it go, by the way?"

"Hey, true. It went amazingly, of course. That stuff you gave me was... well, I'm a little shaky on how the night went. I guess we shouldn't use that again though, huh? At least not until the Elyde and everything is taken care of."

"Probably not. But I'm glad you had fun. And since you weren't there, Minerva slept with me. Just slept, I mean it literally. But that was still pretty nice,” Oren smiles happily. “Maybe she does like me a little."

"That's fantastic! I keep telling you she likes you. Wait... are you only not sleeping with her because we usually share a room?"

"No, but I asked because you weren't there. Don't worry about that. I mean, if we're all sharing rooms she'd probably be with Elise anyway, right? It's fine. And it sounds like she doesn't want us to sleep in the same bed anyway. I think she thinks we do that all the time, but it's only when there aren't two beds really... And I don't know if it matters anyway, because it's not the same as when I slept with her, you know?"

"Yeah... alright. But if you do want to start sharing a room with her, you definitely can."

"....Maybe, but I don't want you to be lonely. I'm sorry, we can figure out something... She probably won't want me to sleep with you anymore, I think you were right when you said it means you like someone. She was saying something about liking someone romantically, and since we don't like each other that way maybe we shouldn't do that? But I feel like it's the other way around. Sleeping with you is normal, it's comfortable and I get to talk to you and not wake up alone. But with her I barely slept at all and I was distracted because she's... uh... pretty. You know what I mean..." Oren trails off, looking at the ground.

"Yeah, I know what you mean,” Eliam grins at him. “You're really nice. Don't worry, I won't be lonely, okay? It's more normal for you to stay with her anyways. And normal is what you want now that you're not... you know, crazy anymore, right?"

Oren looks at him for a moment, confused, then pulls him into a hug. "I'm not crazy anymore... I'm not really normal though. And I don't have to be crazy to like hanging out with you."

"Oh I mean, I'm not going stop hanging out with you all the time,” Eliam explains, hugging him back. “But I'm not going to try to keep you from Minerva at night. Honestly, she'd probably stab me in my sleep if I tried."

"I wouldn't let her do that, don't worry,” Oren smiles, pulling away. "Maybe I can take turns, that way nobody is lonely all the time. She'll probably get sick of me all the time anyway, and you won't be alone every night. Not if you can find someone you like."

"We'll worry about it later when we're trying to figure out camp, alright? I wouldn't dwell on it too much now. ...What did you need in here, anyways?" Eliam looks around the ruined living room.

"I don't know, I bet Minerva knows where her mother kept her recipes. She won't mind if we take them, after all her mother spent all that time figuring them out and learning them... It would be a waste to just leave them here. Unless they already took that sort of thing before. Maybe Linea has them, if Minerva's dad gave them to her."

"Can't hurt to look, I guess. Better think of an excuse for why you took it if Minerva finds out about it though. It'd probably be in her room, then... unless she had a workshop or something."

"I don't really want to search for it without asking her first, she'll just get mad,” Oren says, thinking. “...She got mad when I searched her dad's body, this seems similar. I'll wait for her to come back in."

Elise peeks into the house, having left Minerva to reminisce with Farson, and gives them both a curious look. "Well," she says, "that was far better than anything we could have hoped for. It's nice to see some good happen for a change. ...So... you're going to... tell Minerva you're planning to take stuff, right?"

Oren nods. "We don't even know where it is, or if it's here."

She folds her arms, but recognizes the importance of what you might find. "Are you... looking for recipes or actual powders?"

"The recipes would be ideal,” Oren explains. “I'm not sure if that kind of medicine would still work after so many years."

"That was going to by my concern, yes," she nods. "Well, if I were old recipe books, where would I be?"

"Her old room, maybe?” Eliam shrugs. “Unless you think you saw a workshop of some sort around?"

"Nothing like a workshop... I guess her room would be a start." Elise begins to lead them up the steps slowly.

They walk through a small hallway, Oren quickly checking each of the three rooms they pass as they wander. Eventually they reach a bedroom at the end of the hall. Dust covers the bed and end tables of Cerena's room, save for the feet nearest the door, which are covered with dust and dried blood.

"... Minerva won't mind this, right?" Eliam asks uncertainly.

"I don't know,” Oren shrugs. “Why are there three rooms? Her father didn't live here, right? And he would share with her mother presumably..." He frowns, and turns to go back downstairs. "We should wait."

They return to the small porch in the back, and the three of them take a seat, watching Minerva help Farson tend to the graves.

"Elise, your father was a healer, right?” Oren asks. “Was your house like this?"

She shakes her head. "It was a little smaller. Saloria wasn't as large or well off a city as Tezef."

"Still, this house seems pretty big for just... an average family, I guess,” Eliam asks. “Do all healers make enough to live like this?"

"Maybe they got the lumber for a good price,” Oren suggests. “She said her father cut down trees before he switched jobs. And with the forests right there it's probably a lot cheaper here"

"That would be a great question for her, at some point," Elise notes.

### The Group Finds a Cookbook

About half an hour passes before Minerva, beaming, escorts Farson from the house. She places the stool he was using back near the house and leads everyone back inside, sitting gingerly on the couch in the living room.

"Hey, um," she says, "I... know you didn't all have to wait for me, or even to come, but... thank you. This meant to much to me."

Oren smiles awkwardly, and glances at Eliam.

"Of course. I'm glad you got to see him again. Though I was worried he'd end up being a Rorgh spy or something, for a minute there,” Eliam smiles.

"So... did your mother have her recipes written down?” Oren asks. “For that powder, and the medicine she made?"

"Hm... She did, once," Minerva says," but she destroyed nearly all her notes when it became obvious the orcs may become a threat to our family. She didn't want them having access to what she had made."

"*What?* That's awful,” Oren says, looking annoyed.

"There were only two formulas that she wanted to keep on hand, so she etched them into a cookbook hoping that anyone would mistake it for a regular old recipe. I think one was a powder to cauterize wounds, and the other... I don't fully remember."

Oren glances at the kitchen, noticing some dusty books left haphazardly near the sink. “Do you know which book?”

She shrugs. "I think it had a blue cover and would have had handwritten notes."

He goes to the kitchen, examining the covers of various books. Some are burnt, but he pulls out two intact books with blue covers and brings them to Minerva, flipping through them quickly. “Do either of these look right?”

"Honestly, I never really paid a lot of attention when I was younger... I wish I had," she says a little mournfully.

"This could be a kind of... way to connect with her, sort of? Maybe you and Oren could learn to make her recipes,” Eliam suggests.

"Yeah," Minerva smiles. "Thanks, Eliam. That's a great idea."

Oren nods, returning to the kitchen to look for more. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a loose board within a partially destroyed cupboard, jutting slightly upward at an odd angle. He lifts it gingerly, finding the spine of a blue hardcover book hidden within. He takes it back to the living room, frowning as he opens it.

"What did you find?" Minerva asks.

"I'm not sure,” Oren says, holding it up. Within the book, several pages have been ripped out, leaving only the cover intact.

Minerva extends her hands and asks, "May I?"

"It's yours,” he says, handing it to her.

"Thanks," she says. She turns the book over and checks the inside cover. "This might have been the one," she says. "There might still be something in those other books you found, but this might have been the one that had most of it. Especially if it's destroyed." She sets it down. "I hope Mom destroyed this... orcs wouldn't just rip pages out and take them, would they?"

"Why would someone hide the cover?” Oren frowns. “Why not just burn the whole thing?"

"I'd expect they took the pages for themselves, if that's what happened. But if your mom had time to prepare, I'm sure it \_was\_ her who destroyed them... or hid them."

"Maybe your father took it?" Oren suggests.

Minerva shrugs. "If he did, he never mentioned it... Maybe that's something to ask Linea when we get back."

"That makes sense,” he nods. “He probably gave her everything. We can take these and read them, maybe there's the recipe for that egg thing you like."He pushes the books into his bag, securing them at the bottom. "Do you want to take anything from upstairs?"

She shakes her head. "I don't think there's anything else up there for me. Thanks for asking."

"Then we should probably head over to that dock and find a boat. If you're ready?"

She looks around the house one last time, then nods. "Yeah. Let's get moving."

Minerva leads them outside, and they backtrack up the dusty road, approaching the docks. They arrive to see Gwen speaking to a sailor.

"Hm... Five of you," he says, his voice grizzled. He scratches at his beard. "15 silver for the lot of you and your gear," he says.

"That sounds great, thanks," Gwendolyn smiles, handing him exact change.

He pockets it and opens a gate to allow her onto the ship. "Are these them?" he asks, seeing the four approach.

"They are. They have convenient timing."

Minerva waves. "Hey! Did you find a boat?"

"I did. What took so long?"

"Sorry. Ran into an old neighbour," she says. "It was... nice."

"How long until the ship leaves?" Oren asks the sailor.

"If you've all you need, we can depart anytime.”

"I'm all set!" Elise chimes happily, climbing onto the boat. The others follow, and within the hour, the boat departs for Ushad.

On the deck, Gwendolyn takes Elise and helps her to practice with her weapon. Though they can't easily spar, she helps her with her footwork, making sure her posture is correct and helping her swing her weapon powerfully and accurately.

As they travel, Oren collects a bucket of water. He takes it to the boat's sleeping area, a large space with several bunks packed in tightly together. Though the boat carries only his friends, he closes the door behind him, wary that one of the sailors will pass by and see him. He carefully manipulates the water, practicing his abilities by freezing it into specific shapes and fine tuning his control.

As time passes, Minerva joins him, reading the books taken from her mothers home with a somewhat wistful look on her face. She occasionally looks over at Oren, asking him for information about some of the rarer ingredients mentioned in clearly coded recipes for alchemical potions.

Shortly before bed, Eliam joins them, practicing his lute and occasionally cheering Oren on in his efforts to practice. He smiles as his practice proves fruitful, his playing largely improved from when Oren first encouraged him to spend time on it. Before they go to sleep, Oren pools their gold together, collecting into a separate bag that he places near his cot.

### The Group Splits Up in Ushad

The boat docks quietly and the party disembarks. The orcs at the dock regard them suspiciously but say nothing.

"What should we do first?" Minerva asks, stretching her back as they look around the docks.

"Do you want to see Linea now? And we should find Heather,” Oren suggests. “Do you want us to come with you for that? And we should probably exchange our money..."

Elise shrugs. "You can if you like. I imagine I won't be long. I can meet up with you after."

"My brother works in this city...” Eliam says quietly. “He might be able to get us a boat on the way out... that'll be one awkward conversation though. And we can worry about that later, anyways."

"Well.. maybe we can split up and get everything done quicker,” Ore suggests. "You can go visit your brother and arrange a boat, maybe to Glenhaven? We can get to Westbridge from there easily, it's not far. And Elise can go to Heather, Minerva to Linea... Gwen and I can go exchange the money and get anything else we need. We can meet up somewhere.. Maybe at the, uh... cult...."

Minerva glares a dagger at Oren. "You just might be sleeping with Eliam more, mister," she mumbles to herself.

"I think your home had a few rooms, so we probably won't have to share at all,” Oren informs her, looking slightly confused. "Unless you want to?"

"I mean, works for me,” Eliam grins, trying not to laugh.

Oren shrugs. "So, where should we meet? We don't have necklaces..."

"Back here, this evening?” Minerva suggests. “Then we can go to the Lyriad HQ together and rest up there. Free beds."

"Elise, do you know how to find Heather?" Oren asks.

"Her friend has a shop she's been working in," Elise answers. "Won't be hard to find, I'm sure."

"Alright, just keep your hair covered,” he says, fussing with her scarf to make sure it's fully secured.

She nods. "Okay. Thank you." Content her scarf is fixed, Elise waves at them and walks out into the city.

“I'll see you all soon,” Minerva says, hugging Oren and following Elise down the road towards the Lyriad headquarters.

“Get us a good deal on the gold, okay?” Eliam tells Oren, waving at him and Gwendolyn as he takes off in the opposite direction.

### Gwen and Oren Go to the Bank

"So, instead of a bank, maybe we can find a blacksmith or a jeweler who can melt it all down into ingots?" Oren suggests to Gwendolyn, making sure the bag of gold is still intact. "We won't get as much money as we would presenting it as gold from Thirsahlon, but that seems dishonest since we don't really have ancient coins... and it'll attract attention... 600 is so much money, I don't see why we'd need more than that. What do you think?"

"No more dishonest than how it was acquired,” Gwen muses. “I see no reason to lose money, personally. And it's not like melting down 600 coins won't also attract attention. I can't imagine the person not talking."

"So what do you think we should do?"

"See about exchanging it for Iquai coins,” she answers simply.

"But for more than one for one?"

"Yes. It'll be a nice buffer to have more, to help with fixing the damages after the Elyde is removed. I'm sure Eliam will enjoy a nice start to his treasury."

Oren nods. "Do you know where the bank is?"

"It's been awhile, but...maybe,” Gwendolyn says, leading him down a side road. They continue on for some time, finally reaching a large building with a sign reading Royal Bank of Iquai.

"Can you handle it? I'm.. not very good at this sort of thing,” Oren explains, handing her the bag of money. “I think maybe I should wait outside..."

Gwendolyn nods, smiling a half smile at him. She takes the bag and walks inside, where there are about five or six people, tellers and customers, in the room. A single orc security chief stands near the far wall.

"Hello,” Gwendolyn says politely as she approaches a non-occupied teller. “I'm interested exchanging some money. Is the manager available?"

"Certainly," the teller replies, "though I believe you'll find we are all qualified to suit your needs."

"Yes, I'm sure that's true. But with the amount I have, I believe you'll be needing his approval regardless. Will you please tell him Lady Gwendolyn Oberle is looking to meet with him privately?" She smiles, as he looks somewhat surprised at her title.

“Certainly," the teller bows. He departs for the manager. Moments later, he arrives. "Lady Oberle, is it?"

"Yes. And you are?"

"The manager of this branch, Sert Gallan."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Gallan,” Gwen smiles. “I believe I have something that will interest you, if you're available."

"And you as well. What have you to share?" he asks.

"I'd prefer to conduct my business in private."

"Very well," the manager says. "We have a room in back." He leads her to a rear office.

Gwendolyn sits down as he motions to a chair, pulling out a single gold coin. Worldlessly, she slides it over to him. He lifts it up slowly and studies it.

"I believe its a coin minted in ancient Thirshalon, before it was destroyed,” she explains.

"Remarkable," he says. "The rarity of such an object... This would be remarkably valuable, as it's perhaps one of a kind."

"I have actually found a number of the coins," she continues, lifting the bag and setting it down carefully on her side of the table. "I was hoping to exchange them all to a single source, as to not diminish their worth."

The manager opens the bag. "Fascinating. How many?"

"661, in total."

"I will need time to verify the authenticity of the coins. If you are serious about this, leave me with this one and return in a couple of days," he says.

"Of course, I would expect nothing less. If you could keep the matter as private as possible, however, it would be appreciated."

“Certainly." He bows and leads her from the office, keeping one coin for himself.

She returns outside, placing the bag of coins within her own supplies as she greets Oren. "I'll need to come back in a few days to finish the deal."

"Alright, that's great,” he smiles. "Um... can we find a jeweler? Or..something like that?"

“Of course,” she nods, and leads him back through the city. They wander around, finally finding a jeweler's shop. Oren walks quickly to the counter while Gwendolyn waits outside, pulling out three small golden rings taken from the Patriarch.

The jeweler examines them. "Fine material. Small gold. Some silver. Certainly not magical. They'd be worth a few gold. Five apiece, I'd say."

"Do you want to buy them?"

"15 gold for the lot? You've got a deal," the jeweler says, gathering the money.

"Actually, can you make something for me?" Oren asks, pulling out a pen and a piece of paper. He carefully sketches a necklace, a chain with a small glass bulb at the end, lotus petals suspended within. Two vials of aether hang from either side.

"Hm," the jeweler says, examining the picture. "This is... this is an incredibly difficult piece. A lot of custom parts. To be honest, this will take most of what you're selling the rings for. I can't see this being done for less than 12 g."

"...Okay, that's fine,” Oren nods, and pulls out Herb's wedding ring. "This ring *is* magic. Is it possible to integrate it without ruining the magic? Or... maybe making it into a bracelet or something else?"

The jeweler studies the ring. "It is difficult to say. Leave it with me and I shall have it studied. Come back in two days?"

"Okay.” Oren pulls out the blood lotus carefully, undoing the cloth wrapped around it. He separates the pods and the seeds, carefully placing the petals and two vials of aether on the counter for her. "You can keep the money, and if it's more... I'll pay when I pick it up, okay? But whatever you do, don't open the vials. ...Inside, there's... it's like an acid, sort of. But it looks nice doesn't it? Just keep them closed, or don't touch it."

The woman nods, and Oren returns outside, walking with Gwendolyn back to the docks.

### Eliam Visits his Brother

Eliam wanders down the streets, alone, finally reaching the Westmonte holdings in Ushad. He walks inside, tentatively looking around at the small lobby area.

The receptionist tilts her head at him, half recognizing him. "Yes?"

"Er... hello,” he smiles politely. "Is uh... Arlan here? By any chance?"

"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Westmonte?" she asks.

"Well... no. But uh... it's fine. Can you just tell him Eliam wants to speak with him?"

She affixes her glasses on the bridge of her nose and looks at Eliam severely. "I'm afraid Mr. Westmonte has requested appointments only."

"Okay, well, can you please tell him Eliam *Westmonte* wants to speak with him, then?" Eliam says, slightly annoyed.

She looks slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, ah..." she says, with a slight cough, "the only exceptions are for... erm... family."

"And I'm his brother,” Eliam frowns. “So... I'll just have a seat while you go inform him I'm here, then?"

The receptionist gets up awkwardly and leaves her desk, walking up a large flight of stairs in the center of the room. Eliam sits down, tapping his foot as he waits.

The wait is long. It feels longer than it probably is, and it's hard to know if that's just how long it's taking to get Arlan or if he's dragging out the wait on purpose.

An eternity passes before he appears at the top of the stairs. "Eliam," he says softly.

"Um... hey,” Eliam says nervously, smiling at him. "Been a while, huh?"

Arlan descends the stairs until he's standing immediately in front of Eliam. "Almost too long. I started to... well. I'm... glad you're back." He looks at him awkwardly, and they both stand in silence, unsure of what to say. "...I have a meeting shortly, I'm afraid. Will you join me until then?" he asks politely.

"Of course!” Eliam says quickly. “I mean... I'm glad to be back too. You have no idea. You wouldn't even begin to believe everything that's happened to me. I met a bunch of people, and we're sort of... well, we'll discuss that later, in private. But it's been one hell of an adventure,” he grins.

Arlan leads him up the stairs to his office. It's nicer than the last time Eliam had been in there. The drapes on the windows are a little more opulent than he remembers, and the desk is nicer. Arlan hurriedly turns a picture frame away from the chair he offers before he sits opposite the desk.

Eliam looks around, tilting his head slightly. "So... business is going good then? And everyone... everyone back home is okay?"

"Business is as good as it can be," Arlan says, "with taxes being what they are and the Elyde breathing down our necks. Home is fine. There have been issues here and there but by and large things are well. Shera misses you dearly. Keeps asking if we've heard from you. She'll be relieved I finally have something to report."

"Okay... that's good. After Fallowfield... I'm not sure if you heard about what happened there, but we were sort of involved, and well... I was afraid there'd be... reprisals, I guess. I'm glad everyone's okay,” Eliam smiles, taking a seat. "I'm sorry I haven't been back in a while. Things have been sort of... busy."

Arlan leans back in his chair. "Fallowfield? That was... you? How?"

"Okay, I mean, not like *that*. I didn't burn the place down or anything. Some of the Rorgh were after us, and though we escaped, it sounds like they destroyed it after." Eliam leans back in his chair, glancing curiously at the picture frame. "So... what have you been up to?"

Arlan leans on his desk and rests his head on his hands. "The Rorgh were after you. Really."

"Well... yes. And still are, probably... It's a long story. What are you trying to hide?” Eliam asks, grinning. “Did you finally get married or something?"

Eliam leans forward and reaches for the picture frame, Arlan reaches forward at the same time. He grips the frame on the right from his side as Eliam grabs it on the right on his. They each hold it for a moment. "Eliam, it's nothing. Forget about it. Tell me more about the Rorgh."

Eliam sighs, clumsily letting go. Arlan, not expecting this, lets the frame fall to the ground and shatter, and the photo slips face-down onto the ground.

"Eliam!" Arlan warns. He immediately jumps up and moves around the desk.

"Shit... sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean to break that,” Eliam apologizes quickly, reaching down for the photo to help clean up.

It's a full family photo, all of the Westmontes... minus Eliam. Shera sits front left. Even from the size of the photo, Eliam can tell how puffy her eyes are.

"Oh,” he says quietly.

Arlan sighs. "I'm... sorry you had to see that. Father insisted shortly after you left. Shera... didn't hide her feelings on the matter well."

"I... okay. Yeah. I mean... it's fine,” he says, placing the photo back on the desk. "So we... went to Fallowfield, right? And met with the Holy Seat. She told us we were the Children of Destiny. Myself included."

Arlan collects the broken pieces, and tosses the shattered frame in the garbage. He sits down and narrows his eyes. "Children of Destiny? The fairy tale? Eliam, if you're trying to work your way back into our father's good graces, you'll need better than that."

"No, seriously though!” He insists. “I mean... okay, I know how it sounds. But I'm not joking. I can stop time itself!"

The look on Arlan's face couldn't be more skeptical if he tried. "Really. Stop time."

Eliam frowns, rolling his eyes. Before Arlan can protest, he grabs his arm. Around them, time slows to a stop. Arlan rushes to the window, pulling Eliam with him so his hand remains on his arm. He stares out at the busy street. Carriages, frozen in an instant on the street. People stuck in mid-stride. A child throwing a ball, waiting for it to break its eternal midair suspension. "M-madness. Impossible!" he gasps.

Eliam grins. "How's that for making something of myself, huh?"

Arlan looks at him shocked as the connection breaks and time moves again. "This is... sweet Maker above." He draws some steadying breaths and sits. "Okay. Our father will... he will listen to you for this. But he'll ask more. What have you done with this power?"

"Well... uh... nothing, so far,” Eliam admits sheepishly. “I sort of... just learned it. But it's amazing, right? ...Though actually, that brings me to my next point. My group and I were hoping to travel that way. And to be honest, we could use your help with transportation."

"Travel... home?" he asks.

"Well... yes, sort of. There's a small town near it, Westbridge? We need to speak to someone there who might be able to help us. But I was hoping to visit home at the same time... make sure everyone's okay. Do you think... I mean, would that be a problem?"

"Well," Arlan says slowly, "let's think of what our father would say. What are your immediate plans? What do you hope to achieve?"

Eliam closes his eyes, thinking. "I don't know if word's gotten here yet... but in Tezef, there was a monster that burned the town down. And in Saloria... there's monsters, most likely, and a host of other problems there. So we're going to beat that first monster, and fix Saloria. We'll make everything okay again."

Arlan nods. "Then listen to me: do that first. Father won't be impressed by parlour tricks, as amazing as they are. And I truly mean that, Eliam, that was... astonishing. But Father wants us to do things with our gifts. Use your powers first. Change the world for the better. Then go home. He won't see you until then."

Eliam looks at him, and after a long moment, nods. "I... okay. We will. And... you'll tell Shera, and everyone, that I'm still okay? And I'll be home soon?"

Arlan smiles. "I will. She will be... Well, relieved is an understatement," he says. "I admit, I'm... quite happy as well. Are the Rorgh still after you, do you think?"

"Yeah... I missed you. And everyone. It's... really good to be home. More so than you know. They probably are, assuming they don't think we died in Fallowfield. Oh, uh... don't... tell anyone, okay? About the Children thing? I don't think I was even supposed to tell you, actually."

"Not even Shera?" He smiles.

"Okay, you can tell her. It's amazing enough she has to know."

"And trust the girl can keep a secret?"

"It'll be fine, I'm sure. Well... hopefully. Either way." Eliam grins. "So... can I count on a boat being ready at the docks? We won't stop in Glenhaven, or at least, not home. But I'd appreciate the help with passage regardless."

"Yes. I shall have it arranged for you. Be careful, Eliam," Arlan cautions. "The Rorgh moved on Fallowfield. Nowhere is safe now."

"Yeah... okay. Thank you. Truly, for everything. I'm... sorry it's been so long. But it was good to see you again."

"Yes," Arlan says, offering out his hand. "It really was."

Eliam smiles, and pulls him into a hug. Cheerfully, he steps outside of the office, and makes his way back to the docks to meet up with everyone there.

### The Group Visits the Lyriad

As the sun begins to set, the group reconvenes at the docks.

"Hey!" Minerva says by way of greeting, as the others approach. "We're good for a place to sleep tonight."

"I got us a boat,” Eliam informs them happily. “It should be ready to go whenever we are."

"I need a couple days to finish the exchange, but it seems promising,” Gwendolyn reports with a smile.

"That's great," Elise says. "I think I'm actually going to spend the night with my sister, though, if that's okay. I can always meet up with you when we're ready to go."

"Sure. We can always pick you up tomorrow, if you'd like,” Eliam offers.

"Sounds great," Elise says. "Minerva's operatives will know how to find me. At least, they will if they're as good as she says," she remarks, teasing.

Minerva grins. "They will. They're the best."

"See you tomorrow,” Oren says, mussing her scarf slightly.

Elise smiles. "See you tomorrow." She turns and walks away from the party.

Oren smiles as she leaves, and after a moment, takes Minerva's hand. "Lead us to the hideout, fellow cultist."

She sighs. "I swear, I would push you in this water but you'd probably like it."

He nods happily, and Minerva leads the party back down to the Lyriad headquarters, where they are welcomed by Linea.

Linea hugs Minerva warmly and says, "I know I saw you already, but it's been long enough I'm happy to do that again and again. Hello, everyone," she says to everyone else. "And, ah..." She looks at Gwen. "I'm sorry, I don't think I'm familiar..."

"My name's Gwendolyn,” she smiles politely. “Thank you for letting us stay here."

"It's our pleasure. A friend of Minerva's, and all that. Minerva, have you plans for the next few days?"

Minerva shrugs as she looks at the party. "We need to wait for a few things to pan out... Anyone have anything they need?"

"Not really...” Oren shrugs. “Um... how hard is it to make those Lyriad necklaces?"

Linea looks at her own. "It's more time-consuming than anything," she says. "The ore needs significant time to cool down during processing."

"Oh, okay..." Oren nods. "Well, we're going to Westbridge soon, right? Not everybody has to go, I mean..."

Minerva tilts her head. "You staying here?"

"I'm happy to go with, unless you don't want me to,” Eliam offers. “I'm a little curious to see your home town."

"I meant, if you all... don't want to come with me, you don't have to,” Oren explains. “But you can if you want. You might like the tower. It's really tall... And it's not really my home town, it's.. just some town, I didn't even live in the town. It's across the bridge from the tower..."

Minerva smiles. "You came home with me. It seems only fair I go back with you, too."

"Okay...” he says, looking away and blushing.

Linea looks at Minerva with an odd look. "You... have been home? How was it?"

"It... was nice. Home is... ruined. But Old Man Farson put in a... a grave for Mom and I. He's been maintaining it all this time." Her eyes water a little.

Linea looks surprised. "Has he? He always was a kind man," she says approvingly. "Loved you to death, he did. Couldn't have been prouder if you'd been his own granddaughter."

Oren goes through his bag, pulling out the cookbooks from the bottom and handing them wordlessly to Linea.

"What's this?" She asks, opening one.

"Do you know if Minerva's mom had any recipes for medicine? Like, did... her dad give you anything like that?"

Linea looks downcast. "We have nothing," she answers. "Minerva, on the night your mother was murdered, the orcs rampaged through the house, taking or destroying anything they thought may have value. An operative for the Lyriad spied from a distance during the destruction. He reported they were very careful to burn any powders or notes they found, with the exception of one book. They very nearly destroyed it, but one literate orc noticed what was within and saved it from the fire. They threw the cover where it had been found and took the pages back to the Elyde. Is this cover from the house? I would imagine this is the book that used to house Cerena's notes... or the ones she felt needed to be preserved, anyway."

Oren nods. "But wasn't it just medicine? Why would the Elyde need that? And why would she want to keep it from them?"

Linea speaks slowly, thinking as she talks. "Cerena was a gifted herbalist and apothecary. She created powders for a variety of purposes... dreamless sleep, celeritous healing, cauterizing of wounds, antitoxins... and she made most of them from crushed organic matter that was burned, boiled, refined, or squeezed for oils. Her work created potent powders that were not only effective but inexpensive and accessible. You can imagine how that could support an army, defensively and offensively. Imagine her dreamless sleep powder weaponized and launched in the midst of an enemy squad. Rendered unconscious and helpless in a breath."

"Or worse," she continues, "the cauterizing powder. Burns flesh to stop bleeding and prolong life in instances of limb loss or major perforations, but picture the burns it could cause if weaponized on a larger scale. Cerena recognized the danger of her work and sought to safeguard it. I fear she was not successful."

"...Could it be used to make a zombie?" Oren asks, raising an eyebrow. "...Um, I mean, if someone died... and you used that... could you bring them back? Like, necromancy."

Linea looks incredibly doubtful. "Celeritous healing could do much, but... that seems beyond the reach of Cerena's work alone. Although," she muses, "if one could find a way to animate the dead, her powder could certainly keep the corpse from rotting. Dead bodies can't heal themselves, after all, so you'd need an alternate natural source."

"Is there a way to make it stop working? Something that would reverse the powder's healing?" Oren asks.

Linea ponders. "Cerena always had to reapply the powders. Confining the afflicted for a certain length of time would see it wear off." She fixes Oren with a more serious gaze. "Wait. You can't... mean you've fought the undead? The Elyde have undead?"

He shrugs. "Once there was this skeleton, and no matter how many times Votig punched it, it just got back up..."

"We did see something that Minerva described as the undead in Fallowfield, as well,” Eliam adds.

"...Yeah. There were orcs,” Oren nods.

Minerva is silent.

Linea has gone white."Come with me. All of you."

Oren takes Minerva's hand, leading her as Linea takes them all down a hallway. She ushers them inside of a side room, and bars the door after they enter. Minerva squeezes Oren's hand as Linea takes a seat at a small conference table, motioning for them to sit as well.

"What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room. It's intelligence we have worked very hard to obtain, and we have very little, but if it gets out it could cause a panic."

Minerva snaps out of her reverie. "When did we get this?"

"Approximately a month ago," Linea answers. "Do I have your word, each of you, that you will treat this with the utmost of secrecy?"

Each of them nod in turn, and Linea clears her throat. "We have learned that we are not the only underground organization operating in Sylvatir.

"The Elyde, at some point during their reign, created a secretive chapter of their ranks with one purpose: to blur the line between life and death," she says. "Their goal was to prevent their army from dwindling. They must have known, at some point, that there are only so many orcs. Such a violent race, given such power... Their numbers were doomed to shrink over generations. With a smaller army, the Elyde's control would weaken... but if they could raise their orcs from the grave, and raise the bodies of their enemies... Their power would be unchecked for all time.

"We know not where they are operating from," Linea says. "Only their name: the Tolnuk Order. They exist in the shadows of the Elyde, propping them up from behind. We had believed their necromancy would be limited exclusively to raising feeble skeletons of the dead, but with Cerena's powders..." Linea shudders. "The thought is, I admit, frightening. I'd sooner never see an old friend stalking the battlefield again..."

Eliam glances at Minerva quickly, who turns white.

"It's a good thing Votig's body isn't on this planet,” Oren says quietly.

"Hopefully they can't reach Thirshalon," Gwendolyn nods.

"Votig's... body? Oh..." Linea says softly. "Did he pass?"

Oren nods.

Linea regards Gwen with extreme skepticism. "Thirshalon? Explain, please."

"There's an ancient glyph in the church in Fallowfield, connecting us to Thirshalon,” Gwendolyn explains. “Minerva didn't tell you? It's where we've been these last...two months now?"

"She did not," Linea says. "That's rather important information, Minerva.”

She stammers. "I-I'm sorry. I was hoping to tell the story tonight when we were all here."

"Eliam is better at telling stories,” Oren tells her. “It's best to leave it to him, usually."

"Aww hey, thanks," he says, smiling at them. Minerva smiles back weakly.

"Well," Linea says. "We shall have to catch up soon. For now, I'll get the troops on alert. We'll have to watch for any soldiers behaving oddly. The first time anyone sees a... a corpse walking again... Sweet Maker above, I hope they never reach that point."

"Do we want to go after the Elyde directly? Or the Tolnuk first?" Gwendolyn asks. "After we deal with the ancient god, of course. That seems like the most pressing thing."

"Definitely," Oren nods, and turns away from them to focus on Minerva to make sure she's okay.

"What do you mean, 'ancient god?'" Linea asks curiously.

"Speaking of, Linea, do you have any books or anything from Fallowfield?” Eliam asks. “Or in general, that you wouldn't mind us looking at?"

"No, nothing, I'm afraid," she admits. "Typically they don't let you remove books from the premises... or even from the library itself." She frowns. "Now. Ancient god. What did you find in Thirshalon?"

"I don't want to speak his name, but he seems to easily travel between the two worlds without the glyph. He spoke of the Maker with familiarity unheard of. He was apparently residing in a blood lotus Oren carried,” Gwendolyn reports.

Linea fixes Oren a stern look, waiting for him to explain. He ignores her, putting his arm around Minerva and whispering to her softly.

"Don't get us wrong. We had no idea,” Eliam explains. “Oren in particular. It was... unfortunate, but we're determined to fix it."

Minerva looks at Eliam, then at Oren, then finally at Linea. "Things went wrong. Badly. I won't stop until they're better."

"When we traveled to Tezef, he was there trying to burn the city to the ground,” Gwendolyn adds.

"While in Thirshalon, we traveled to the wellspring there... apparently they have their own set, believe it or not,” Eliam continues. “Anyways, we arrived, and the wellspring... reacted to the blood lotus Oren carried. The monster then appeared from it, spoke some cryptic things to us, and told us he would be here, waiting. I suppose he wasn't lying."

"Is that what happened there?" Linea says. "We just heard some manner of disaster and magical beast from our operatives. Nothing about a god, although, I suppose, how were they to know?"

Eliam looks at her awkwardly. "Did, er... they find any monsters near Saloria, by chance? Is that town okay?"

"Saloria..." Linea says quietly. "That was... tragic. The town is gone. Beasts from the Bramble rule now."

"Any word about Fallowfield?” Gwendolyn asks. “Any survivors who managed to escape?"

"We sent mages. Healers. None of them were able to do more than throw rocks or apply bandages. Magic just ... turned off, there," she says, and nods at Gwendolyn. "A few monks, here and there. Most are in hiding. Many have denounced their faith, and who could blame them?"

"Wait, magic works elsewhere?" Oren asks, snapping back to the conversation.

"Certainly," she answers. "Though magic is incrementally weaker across Sylvatir, it is only in the south-west that it fails to materialize entirely."

"Do you know of any ways to repair the wellspring?" Gwendolyn says.

She shakes her head slowly. "It's the darnedest thing. The ancient texts claimed that only aether could destroy them; and only the aether of that which destroyed them could repair them. If it had been destroyed by aether, I could tell you, but you said it was destroyed by orcs, so..."

"Orcs? But..." Gwendolyn looks around, confused.

"Maybe Eliam can fix it, since aether is his element,” Oren suggests.

"His element?" Linea asks.

"Or... whatever... his colour..." Oren trails off.

"What do you mean?" Linea asks.

Minerva says, "Um... Linea. You know that old fairy tale about the Maker's Children?"

“Eliam's... a mage,” Oren says hurriedly.

Minerva looks suddenly at Oren and her eyes go wide. "T-that's... a... great fairy tale! Right?"

"You keep saying you trust her, Minerva,” Eliam grins. "I'm the Child of Aether. Oren's water, and Minerva's fire."

Oren rolls his eyes and sighs. "He likes to tell people so, I guess it's good to let him when it's safe."

"I mean, it's amazing, right?! We're actual, legendary heroes!"

Linea sits down heavily and suddenly. "Th... no. Minerva, you... no. How?" She takes her hands in her own. "How? How do you know?"

Minerva takes one hand away and conjures flame in it. "I feel the aether that runs through flame. Oren controls water. Eliam has power over pure aether itself. Our friend controls wind. And Votig... he hated it, but he had the power of the ground in his veins."

"I can stop time,” Eliam says, leaning back and looking smug. “And stop other's magic from working, I guess, but that one's a little tough to show off."

"This ancient god you spoke of," Linea says. "Can you stop it?"

"Of course we can,” Eliam answers quickly, smiling at her.

Gwendolyn frowns. "The Maker could only trap it, not destroy it. Maybe if all the Children were here, but... Maybe we should go after the Tolnuk first. Maybe if we brought Votig back, somehow."

"Yes,” Oren nods. “We can go to The Valley and find his soul. Eliam can put it into a body, and then we can keep him alive with the powder."

"You mean like... necromancy?” Eliam's smile fades. “Is that a good idea?"

Minerva looks doubtful. "He died on Thirshalon. Why would his soul be here?"

"Why not? He belongs here, the Maker wouldn't have left him there,” Oren insists.

"We can't know that," Minerva points out.

"And yet," Linea says, "you would never have gotten this far based on what you knew. Some tasks require leaps of faith."

"...the Maker can't do much to help us, but he definitely controls where the souls of the dead end up,” Oren nods resolutely. “He wouldn't have made this that much harder, if it could be helped..."

"If," Minerva says.

"So, we can look up making golems when we get to the tower... and then head to the Valley to get his soul,” Oren smiles.

"I'm not so sure it *would* be Votig if I brought him back, anyways. I mean... Samson clearly wasn't Samson anymore,” Eliam argues.

"That's why we need the soul,” Oren explains. “He didn't have one, they wouldn't have bothered."

Linea freezes. "S-Samson... is back? No, stop,” she interrupts as Eliam begins to speak. “Answer me. Samson. He's... alive?!"

"His ghost is still in The Valley, probably,” Oren tells her. “Or further away. It's just a body walking around that looks like him."

"Well... no, not exactly,” Eliam explains. “He was... with the orcs. At Fallowfield."

"He's not back, he's not alive,” Oren adds. “It's just his... body. No soul, just a zombie."

Linea's expression darkens. "The Tolnuk." She stands. "I believe it is time to choose your path. Minerva, if you doubt, trust in your friends. They will see you safely to the next step of your journey."

### Gwendolyn Talks with a Monk

Morning dawns on the middle day to find
Elise and Minerva chatting calmly in the Lyriad hq. While they chat,
Eliam slips out of the Lyriad headquarters.

Oren browses idly
through the cookbook, looking for more information on Cerena's work.
Through many hours of dedicated study, Oren manages to decipher one
of the ingredients on an encrypted page. He believes it says 'crushed
Fallow Lily.'

After breakfast, Gwendolyn leaves as well, her
interest piqued by news of survivors of Fallowfield.

It takes some wandering, but
Eliam manages to find Heather at an armory after about forty-five
minutes of aimless wandering.

A bell rings as the door swings open.
Heather turns and sees him. She smiles warmly. "I... should
know you, I think. Eli, was it?"

"Eliam," he answers, smiling
at her. "It's been a while! How have you been?"

"Oh, not so bad," she
admits. "Been getting used to things here. The big city is very
different than Saloria. The pace is different. How have your travels
been? Elise looks well."

"Yes, she's doing... better, I
guess you could say. I'm not sure how much she told you," he says casually, looking around at the other customers.

"She told me things here and
there. A lot of fresh air, met a lot of people, learned a lot about
herself. It sounds like you lot have done her some good,"
Heather answers.

"I'm glad to hear it. Though to be
honest, I was hoping I could talk to you a bit more... maybe in
private. Maybe... over dinner?" He suggests.

"Hm," she says, hesitant. "I
have this strange feeling... Oh, I'm sure it's nothing. Why not?
Tonight, when I'm off?"

"Sounds great. I'll meet you back
here, then?"

She nods. "Don't be late! I'm usually
starving after work. Looking forward to it being your treat,"
she says, turning back to her work.

With another smile, he leaves and
returns to the Lyriad to wait.

Gwen travels for about half an hour
before finding a monk wearing garb similar to that of those in
Fallowfield.

"Excuse me,” she calls out, getting his
attention. “Are you perhaps from Fallowfield?"

The monk
turns. "I... was, yes. Once."

"My name is
Gwendolyn. I was working with Prilla to help find the Children before
the...tragedy. Do you have a moment to talk?"

The monk
sits on a bench near the street. "Certainly, for one of our
own." He turns nervously as an orc walks across the street far
down the road. "Forgive me. They still... put me on
edge."

"It's understandable,” she says, smiling
sadly as she takes a seat next to him. “What they did was
unforgivable, but it will not go unanswered. Could you tell me what
happened, that day? The information I have is quite little."

"I
scarcely know myself," he answers, head down. "It happened
so suddenly. Orcs came and demanded the Children. How they knew they
were there, I don't know. But Prilla refused to give them up. Stalled
them at the gate, told them the Children were a fairy tale. They
killed her.

"They moved through the abbey, killing
everyone they could find, which was most of us. Once they were done,
they burned all they could to the ground. I managed to hide in the
bottom of a well. Went underwater whenever I heard footsteps. Shadows
kept me hidden if they ever peered in. I waited in there for a day
before they finally left. The screams and smell of smoke was...
terrible."

"That must have been horrible, I'm so
sorry. Have you heard of any other survivors? Did the orcs take any
prisoners? I'm looking for a girl named Abigail. She was a priestess
there."

"Hm... I'm sorry," he says. "I did
not know this Abigail, but... I'm sorry, set your expectations low.
The orcs were... thorough."

"I was never expecting
much. But thank you for your time. Are you managing okay? For work,
shelter."

"Yes, I will be fine," he says. "It
has not been easy to go on, but the Maker clearly has some use for
me. I would find it."

"As we all must." She
reaches into her coin purse, pulling out and handing him a gold coin.
"Take this. If you ever find yourself on hard times, use it to
travel to Hadleigh and speak to Alhwin Goebel. Tell him Gwendolyn
sent you, and he should give you work and housing if you need."

"You
are most generous," he replies, taking it with a slight bow.
"Thank you. May the blessings of the Maker be upon you."

"It's
the least I can do. May the blessings of the Maker be upon you as
well,” she bows back slightly, before turning and returning to the
Lyriad.

### Eliam Takes Heather to Dinner

The day passes, and late afternoon
falls. Eliam meets Heather outside the shop as evening looms.

"Oh!
Eliam," she says. "You're right on time. And here I thought
you may have forgotten."

"Of course not,” he
grins. “Are you ready to go?"

"Absolutely. There's
a phenomenal seafood place I've been dying to try. They catch it
fresh from the river every day."

"That sounds great!
Lead the way, then,” he says casually, offering her his arm. She
takes it, and they begin to stroll down the street. They wander for a
bit, eventually pausing at a small bridge overlooking a creek.

"So... I'm curious about Elise,” Eliam says slowly.
“How did... well, how did she get those abilities?"

Heather
lets go of Eliam's arm immediately. "Ah. This... is all about
that," she says, crestfallen.

"What? Of course not.
I'm sorry. I... shouldn't have brought that up, honestly. Why don't
we just enjoy the dinner, and we'll talk about that stuff another
night? It's probably rude to talk about her behind her back anyways."
She looks at him skeptically.

"So, tell me about
yourself,” Eliam continues. “We never did truly get to talk to
each other on the way to Ushad." He slips his arm around her
waist.

Disgusted, she pushes his arm away
immediately. "What... what are you trying to pull?! What is
this?" She steps back and glares at him angrily. "Look,
you're... all right, you're not half bad but am I a person to you
or... or a conquest? Or a history book?"

"I... oh,
wow,” Eliam laughs awkwardly. “I'm not sure what Elise told you
about me, but I don't view you that way at all. I just... thought you
seemed nice. I wanted to get to know you. I'm in town for a bit,
so... I was hoping to spend time with you. That's all."

"She didn't tell me anything bad
about you," Heather responds. "But you... immediately dug
up a painful memory and tried to sidestep it by putting the moves on
me. Forgive me if I don't respond like every other floozy at the
bar."

"Oh... I didn't consider that. I'm sorry. It's
just... we've been speaking at length about curing her. It looks like
a definite possibility, so... I suppose I hadn't considered you might
not be so amenable to talking about it yet. I'm sorry."

She
immediately freezes. "C-cure her? What do you mean?"

"Wait...
she didn't tell you? I'm one of the Children. The Child of Aether.
And honestly, some of the things we've accomplished so far, well...
curing her at this point seems downright simple."

"You're..."
she looks at him skeptically. "You're a fairy tale?"

"Everyone
reacts like that! But, it does mean I get to do this,” Eliam grins,
grabbing her arm before she can stop him. Immediately, time slows to
a stop around them.

Heather gasps as the water of the river
grinds to a halt. "Th-that's impossible!"

"Amazing,
right?!" He says excitedly, then smiles at her again. "So...
is dinner an option again, I hope?"

She looks at him with a pained
expression. "... Okay. If only because I need to understand what
my sister just got herself into."

"Hey, it's a start," he says,
and time begins to flow once again. He puts his arm out for her to
take once more.

She ignores it, but resumes walking down the
road. "So. Do... the others have abilities like yours? Did
Votig?"

"Votig did, yes,” he answers, walking
beside her. “I... suppose I should ask what exactly Elise told you
about our adventure."

"She said you fought monsters,
helped the occasional person, and helped her grow into a stronger and
more confident person, which I can see. She said she wasn't ready to
share all of it yet. I suppose travelling with a Child... or, well,
two Children, I guess, is one of those things."

Eliam
nods. "Yes... it was useful. Helpful to make sure she didn't run
into too much trouble. She does seem to have grown up quite a bit,
though. A little less apt to get distracted staring at the clouds all
the time."

"Yes, I noticed that as well. It
was quite wonderful to see. I suppose I do owe you some thanks for
that," she notes. The seafood restaurant, "Tidal Buffet,"
appears around the corner. "Oh, excellent."

"Shall
we, then?" He smiles, leading her inside.

She follows him in, and they are
quickly seated. She begins to sip some wine as soon as it arrives.
"Eliam. Be honest with me. Elise has always been... somewhat
special. Gifts no one else has. And now she travels with
Children.

"Is my sister a Child?"

Eliam sips
his wine, considering his answer. "I'm not sure that's for me to
answer either way. But if it helps, I can tell you she just sort
of... insisted she come with us, at the start. To be honest I was
somewhat worried she'd run away from home for a time."

Heather
looks disappointed. "I've always believed there was something
more about her. I guess I'll have to ask her directly." She
drinks again.

"That's a good plan, I think. Does she...
not normally tell you things like that?"

She sips again.
"She normally tellsh--excuse me-- tells me a lot. I'm a little
surprised she's said so little about you."

The waiter steps over, noticing the
glasses emptying. "More wine?" he asks.

"Of course, thank you," Eliam
answers, before turning back to Heather. "As am I! And to be
honest, I'm disappointed she didn't tell me more about you. But, it
is an excuse to talk to you more, I suppose."

She gives
him a piercing stare. "I'm not that tipsy, yet, Eliam."

"Right,
of course," he grins.

A few more glasses of wine pass.
The bill rises. Heather's face grows a little red.

Eliam closes his eyes briefly, hiding
the flash of grey as time rolls to a stop around him... but he can
sense the spell is somehow off. It feels insecure; frowning slightly,
he stays in his seat, and time quickly begins to move again.

"So...
perhaps we should settle the bill, then, and find somewhere a bit
more quiet?" He suggests.

Heather leans back and studies
him with an amused gaze. "I think the treat was yours tonight,
sir," she says.

"Well... how about this," Eliam
says, grinning at her and resting his arm on the table. "I'll
cure your sister, and you'll handle dinner tonight... what do you
say?"

Her eyes narrow. "You said that before. What
do you mean by 'cure'?"

"Well... I have control over
aether itself,” he explains. “And her... ability to overhear
things seems magical in nature, from the way she's explained it. The
only real concern is that she won't have *any* magic afterwards,
but she's said that's a trade she's willing to make."

Heather
looks thoughtful. "You're her friend. Why would you not do that
anyway?"

Eliam shrugs. "She asked me not to. She
said she's more useful now, despite the drawbacks. She did make it
her job to heal us while we were traveling."

Heather smiles. "Good... that's
good. ...Still don't get why that means I have to pay for dinner,
though," she says, sipping.

Eliam smiles, and once again,
closes his eyes briefly. This time, he can sense the spell has
worked, much to his relief. He stands quickly, assessing the bar; he
walks over to a man sitting at a barstool, and slips out four silver
from his pocket. As the spell begins to weaken, he dashes back into
his seat, pocketing the money.

"True enough,” he tells her
with a smile. “It would be quite unfair to make you pay for the
date."

She downs she rest of her wine. "Very
generous of you. Will you be walking me home?"

"Well
of course. I wouldn't dream of letting you wander the streets alone
at night. Shall we?" He asks, pulling out the silver and placing
it on the table to pay for the bill.

She stands. "We shall."

Heather and Eliam walk toward Heather's
home together. About fifteen minutes pass before she says, "We're
nearly there."

"Alright. ... Perhaps you'd
like to continue speaking, inside?" Eliam offers.

She
throws a sideways glance. "Speaking?"

"Well,” Eliam grins. “I'll let
you decide if anything else happens."

The two arrive at Heather's home. She
opens the door, then turns and eyes him up and down. She leads him
inside. The lights never turn on.

**Chapter 14**