Interlude – Halfseekers (Pt. 2)

She ran.

Out of the inn, through the open door, into the rain-covered plaza of the city her team had given everything for. Ignoring the voices calling her name.

Ran faster than anyone could dream, a blur, pushing the corpse’s body to its limits until even the rain itself seemed frozen in time. But it was never fast enough.

He was behind her. She thought this inn could take no more from her. This wretched place, that [Innkeeper] who asked for everything with tears and a smile. So it had given her something instead.

It couldn’t be real. And if it was?

Moore.

 

——

 

Jelaqua Ivirith ran through the streets of Liscor until she ruptured a tendon in her body’s legs and went crashing down. She skidded across the ground, shredding her clothing and the outer layer of her body’s skin from the sheer speed she’d been running and the friction.

She felt none of it, of course. Got up, limping past a [Knight] in armor sitting on the rainy street, past pedestrians staring and crying out in horror, heedless of the [Guardswoman] who asked her a question. Her corpse’s senses were gone, replaced by the ringing in her ears, the vision burned into her eyes. The agony in her chest.

He was alive. They were alive.

How, exactly, Jelaqua did not know. Kevin had been explaining it when she’d turn and run out of the garden and inn. Now, she kept stumbling forwards until her overexerted body did collapse on the street. Then she lay and stared up at the sky as rain fell on her face.

She didn’t move for a long, long while. Only thought.

This is wrong.

This can’t be happening.

How, how could it ever be?

I will kill her for this, that [Innkeeper].

Moore. What will Seborn say?

It’s not fair.

The Selphid wanted to hurt something. She writhed around in her corpse, tearing through veins and organs, heedless of the damage she was causing to the precious vessel she normally treated with respect. Unable to control it. Unable to comprehend anything.

Moore was alive. Only, it wasn’t Moore. He’d said that, hadn’t he? An older Moore?

It didn’t matter. It was him. She would have known him as a baby or aged. There was no faking the way he smiled, his very aura, was there?

Could it be a Greater Mimic? An illusion? Am I dead?

Hope blossomed in her chest, a kind of twisted hope that this was in fact part of something truly horrific. Because if it was not?

It hurt far too much.

I have buried him. I have mourned him. He is gone, and if he is alive, how can I survive it? My heart can’t. Am I a fool? I should be so happy, but I am not.

She felt destroyed. As if someone had reached into her chest and pulled out her heart. It was—so strange. But someone coming back to life hurt almost more than their deaths.

Jelaqua had buried so many friends over the years. She had become used to death as a companion, that merciless thing you cursed that came for everyone. So she wasn’t numb to it, but she understood it.

If causality’s wheel could be reversed, if miracles could happen—then it was more terrifying. Then she didn’t know how the world worked. Then there was a part of her that would always ask: were you too weak? Did you not do enough, care enough?

Could you save them all? Bring them back? Will you mourn and weep and then be forced to do it all again? Will you stop grieving for the dead because you can never be sure it’s over?

It was devaluing death. The Selphid realized that was part of it. As a Selphid, she had gotten used to mortality since the moment she could move. She had lived in a dead body; she had to buy or procure more dead bodies, and everyone who died was loved or hated by someone. The violation of their corpses, the gall to ask a family member to wear their beloved’s corpse for your own ends—

Selphids respected the dead. Or they went the other way and saw death as a convenience, corpses a disposable tool. What Jelaqua had seen in the inn felt like an abhorrent thing.

So, a thought surfaced in her mind.

I have to kill that thing wearing Moore’s face. That’s not him. That’s some stranger pretending to be an older him. I cannot let him live. I must call Seborn and right this madness.

And Kevin too? Jelaqua didn’t think of the Human for a second. She reconnected her body to her eyes’ optical nerves and stared up at the sky. When she tried to raise her head, it was with murder in her soul. She realized she’d snapped a bit. All adventurers had their line, their breaking point, and she had hit hers.

Rainwater was trickling down her face. The Selphid began to get up—and realized she couldn’t. She checked the muscles, reconnecting to her body, and realized she’d done far more damage in her unthinking flight than she’d thought.

Every muscle in her legs was torn or inflamed. This body still worked—but not every function did, so there was no blood to clot nor capacity of the muscles to heal save for her intervention. Her right leg’s major tendons had just snapped—and her thrashing had damaged the nerve connections to other parts of her body.

Jelaqua began trying to repair them, and the senses she did have access to without damage were vision, hearing—the cranial nerves were fine. So she became aware that she was surrounded by people, all speaking with agitation.

Liscorians. She was in Liscor. She must have fled here through the door…they were speaking in a babble. A woman’s voice was loudest and nearest.

“—just ran through here, then collapsed, Watchman. She’s pale to death! Is—is it a monster?”

“Not a monster. Something in her flesh. Look, the orange—”

“She’s a Selphid, you idiots. Never seen one before?”

That came from a sneering Drake, and then there was an authoritative bark.

“Alright, move back, everyone. Guardswoman Jerci, check the way she came for disturbances. Is she a [Thief]? Was there a fight? Miss Selphid, can you hear me? I’m Senior Guardsman Lens. Is there a crisis? Are you hurt?”

Someone bent over her. A Drake. He waved a hand in front of her. Jelaqua tried and found she could move her eyes, but she was busy reconnecting all the damaged nerves, and it was a mess. She blinked once.

“Looks like she’s awake, but—Watch Captain Ronss, I have a fallen Selphid on Shield Spider Way. No clue what’s going on. I’d send for a [Healer], but…I don’t think I need backup. I’ll have a patrol help me if I need it. We may need to go to Invrisil or Pallass for help.”

How embarrassing. Jelaqua lay there, working on her body, wishing she could use her mouth to tell him she was fine. She just had to get back to the inn and…

Kill Moore? The murderous rage in her mind was already abating. Injure him? Injure someone.

Who was responsible for this? Why?

The Goblin King. The crowd milled around, whispering.

“Selphids? So that’s a corpse? Don’t look, dear!”

“Mother, is she okay?”

“It’s so freakish. It could have hurt someone—why are they allowed in the city? First Goblins, now this?”

That was the same speaker as before. A Drake, vocal. Jelaqua’s fury returned. My team died for this city. I’ll kill you. I’ll—

Guardsman Lens swung around and barked.

“That’s enough of that! Move further back!”

The blowhard wasn’t done.

“You should arrest her for disrupting the peace, Guardsman! And public nuisance. I know the laws. Under Liscorian law, chapter, uh…I’m filing a complaint as a member of the public for my health and safety!”

“You weren’t anywhere near this Selphid when she fell, sir.”

Lens addressed the Drake, and the figure Jelaqua could dimly see, upside down, responded.

“That’s a corpse! I could be infected or get a—a parasite or something! Look, her skin is on the street; is that hygienic?”

He pointed, and Jelaqua imagined it was bad. Someone gagged, and Lens hesitated, about to respond. Then there was a faint murmur—and someone else spoke up with a bright voice.

“Cheerio, good fellow! Are you a longstanding resident of this here domicile, my friend? I, too, am a resident of fine Liscor!”

A Drake with a far stranger modality of speech and a faint accent that did away with the usual extended ‘s’ tapped the first Drake on the shoulder. He hesitated.

“Uh, yes. Liscorian citizen, born and raised. Original.”

He glowered around at the mix of Humans, Gnolls, and other pedestrians with that look of someone who knew he was superior. The Drake lady nodded and adjusted a broad, pink hat which let the water run off the top.

“I’m new to the city myself. Barely four months from Veish. I hopped on the carriage to make my mark in this spot.”

Wasn’t that all the way southwest, next to Zeres? It explained how odd she sounded. Jelaqua’s arm wiggled as she finally began to figure out what did what.

“Good for you. Do you want to add to the complaint?”

The offended Drake grunted, eying the female Drake up and down. She had pale white scales, and she tipped her hat up.

“No, I was rather wondering if you were new to the city. Under four months. Because then I could quite understand you, sir, for your unprepossessing conduct. But if you were here last winter, then I say, how dare you, sir? Or does it not cross your recollection that during the terrible events of the Winter Solstice, a Selphid and her team fought to defend Liscor? I would think everyone living in the northern district remembers. I would be ashamed to hear such words coming out of my own mouth, sir, and I would now like to give you one of these. Oh, please hold this.”

She handed a handbag to the Drake, whose mouth was still open when she turned and slapped him in the face with her tail. It was an elegant move that Jelaqua had never seen before. The Drake twirled fast and angled her body so her tail came up and thwacked the other Drake across the face.

It probably hurt more than a regular slap given the weight of the tail and the speed it hit the Drake. It also seemed hugely offensive—certainly, the Drake grabbed his face and began screaming as she took her handbag back.

“Assault! I’ve been assaulted! You all saw it! Guardsman, arrest this woman!”

He pointed a trembling claw at the female Drake, who put her hands on her hips as Guardsman Lens groaned.

“Miss, you just assaulted another citizen of Liscor in public.”

“Yes, and I’d do it again, Guardsman! For shame, sir! You have no gratitude or good nature in a single scale of your body. Someone collapses on the ground and your first reaction is to charge them?”

There was a murmur, then someone spoke up.

“She’s right. I was in Liscor too when the Draugr were coming at the walls. I remember the north gates. You’re out of line, chum. I ought to slap you too, but I’ve got no tail. I’ll settle for a punch.”

“Get away from me! Guardsman, I’m in danger from this thug of a Human!”

“Everyone calm down. Sir, do not punch that Drake—”

Lens raised his hands as Jelaqua heard more voices. She was trying to sit up now, because she really wanted to see, but she could hear well enough.

“I’ll hit him too. Hold my shopping, dear.”

“Back off, all of you! I’ve got a dagger!”

“Hey, he’s threatening us. You see that, Guardsman? Also, I have this sword, buddy. What would you do if I—”

“No weapons! Put them down! Guardswoman Jerci—get over here!”

The crowd was rumbling by the time Jerci, a young Gnoll, ran past with an entire squad of the Watch. The unfortunate Drake was surrounded by Liscorians. A woman was smiling at him as he tensed—there were at least six pairs of hands on him, so movement might have been impossible even if he wanted it.

“We’re not going to hurt you, pal. That would be against the law, which you broke by threatening us with a dagger. With a child around. Absolutely not; right, everyone?”

Everyone nodded, and she pointed.

“Oh my, is that a fire? You’d better go that way, Senior Guardsman!”

Two of the Watch actually spun around in the pouring rain. Senior Guardsman Lens glanced at them and covered what might have been a smile. Then he raised his claws.

“Alright, let him go. Sir, sheathe your dagger, now. I advise you to go about your day, or I will begin charging individuals, starting with you for disorderly conduct, drawing a blade with malice aforethought, and…”

The Drake ran for it when they let him go. It almost made Jelaqua smile. Almost made her forget Moore, but they brought it back as well.

They remembered. If not the Halfseekers by name…

Oh, dead gods, what will I do? I can’t face him.

It was ‘face him’, now, instead of rip his heart out. She felt tired, and more tired when she realized this was going to be a problem. Everyone had turned back to her.

“Well now, I quite enjoyed that Liscorian civility, but what do we do about this poor Selphid? She’s still down. Does anyone know a [Healer] who works with Selphids?”

“Not here. Jerci, was there an issue…?”

“I think I saw some people running out of the door to the inn, Guardsman Lens, but they said it wasn’t a crisis. And the Doorgnoll told me to eat shit and get lost.”

“Huh. Well…damn. Okay, we might have to load her up just to get her off the street and out of the rain. Let’s get a wagon or—”

They were debating what to do with her, and Jelaqua was desperately searching for the muscle that worked her tongue, when someone interrupted.

“Excuse me. I’m a fellow Selphid. I saw my sister running out the inn and was concerned. May I approach, Guardsman? I might be able to help.”

Lens turned, and Jelaqua recognized the voice. The other Selphid—

“Your sister? You know this woman, ah, sir?”

“Pardon me—turn of phrase. We’re all brothers or sisters…I’m a Selphid [Merchant] from Baleros. Hiveno. May I approach her? Selphids can communicate in-person. It may be somewhat disturbing…”

“Go ahead. Please. Er, do we need to get you anything?”

Hiveno assured him no, and Lens had everyone else step back. Jelaqua knew what was coming, and she sensed a foreign entity entering her body from the earhole.

“Sister? Are you well? I assume you heard most of that. Unless you’re more injured than I thought?”

Selphids ‘talked’ in various ways in person. Their long, malleable bodies could speak with normal words or use other signals—or even their minds to telepathically talk, but neither Jelaqua nor Hiveno was like that. She responded.

“I’m fine. I destroyed my internals, and I’ve tangled everything up.”

Hiveno quested around respectfully, keeping back from the main area where her body was moving about on multiple fronts.

“Baleros’ balls, I can see that! What a mess. Would you allow me to give you a hand? I’ll tell these good people not to worry. Did you hear them sorting out that Drake? Taking our side? I’ve never heard the like, both here or in Baleros!”

“Neither have I. I’ll take the help, thank you.”

Embarrassed, Jelaqua sensed Hiveno withdraw, then give Lens an explanation. When he returned, he began helping her sort out nerve endings—which was mostly a game of ‘pull and see what this one does’.

Normally, you knew what everything did based on its location if you had been in this particular species before more or less, but every body was a bit different, and Jelaqua had thrown everything into disarray. Imagine a neat [Puppetmaster]’s booth with all the strings corresponding to each limb tangled up like a spider’s web, then multiply that by a hundred. That was what they were dealing with.

“You rampaged out of there so fast I was shocked, Sister. What’s your name? Apologies—you must be a [Warrior]. I can’t imagine tearing my body up this quickly.”

“Jelaqua. I—something happened, and I had to go. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Jelaqua? As in Jelaqua Ivirith, Captain of the Halfseekers? What a coincidence! Or not, given how many of us there are. You’re the Selphid I came to meet! I heard there was one of us around here, and I was hoping for an introduction to The Wandering Inn and Liscor. Though it seems I’ve come at a bad time. I’ve heard of your team, Captain.”

“Former team.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, of course.”

It didn’t surprise her that she was known. Selphids kept tabs on each other, helped one another out because you were often the only person if you travelled from Baleros. They had very few enclaves…she spoke softly.

“I’m going to get myself back to the inn as soon as I can get this body limping.”

“Are you in need of a spare? Frankly, I could probably run back to my lodgings in Pallass and pick one up, and it might be faster than this.”

“I think I’ve got it. I can move my arm already…”

“Well then, to work.”

After a few minutes, Hiveno breached the silence.

“Is it something I should inform the Watch about? In the inn? I don’t mean to pry, but you looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

“You have no idea. I’m going to warn you now, Hiveno, that I don’t know what will happen when I get back to the inn. It’s 50-50 I’m a blubbering mess or I try to destroy what’s left of it.”

The [Merchant] hesitated as he sorted a bundle of nerves.

“A fair warning. May I ask what they did that was so egregious? I heard you were friends with the inn.”

Jelaqua replied tiredly and bitterly.

“I am. My team died defending it. I have given everything I had except my life for that place, and not for lack of trying.”

“That sounds like a tremendous amount. Did they…deserve it?”

The question struck the Selphid differently. She thought, then realized her mouth was working. So she rasped up at the sky.

“Deserve it? At first, they didn’t. She didn’t. She just gave my team rooms when no one else would, and she was just—kind. Genuinely. We can always tell. You know what it’s like. And that was it. I got mixed up in a bit of their problems, because that’s what we do. I didn’t owe her anything…and then there were more problems.”

Mrsha lost in the dungeon. Face-Eater Moths. Jelaqua rasped.

“They were friendly enough. I’d have taken my team to help them and the cute kid there, like anyone else. But aside from that? No. Then there was a terrible war in the Floodplains after the rains stopped. Almost…around this time. And I didn’t fight because I didn’t owe her that. But she still gave us something. An end to our long and pointless quest. Maybe not directly, but she did. She helped us watch our teammate die. So we owed her for that.”

Garen Redfang, falling in battle, locking blades with the Goblin Lord. Hiveno murmured with his own mouth.

“It doesn’t sound like that would engender much support from me.”

Jelaqua laughed hoarsely.

“No. No…but I’m not saying it right. We searched for years, trying to kill a monster. And he beat the three of us. We didn’t even kill him. He went down swinging against another foe, on a suicide mission. For a second, he was our teammate again. A bastard, a stupid idiot, but we watched him die like that. We owed her, if she had any part in that. And then…”

Jelaqua could sit up, now, and she stared at her legs, seeing muscles move. Speaking.

“She just helped us, and we helped her. We found our fortunes in the dungeon. Thanks to her? I don’t know. We found a teammate here. I fell in love. Got married. It wasn’t all her, but it was through her inn. Her magic door. That was still not enough. Not enough to balance what we gave.”

The Hag was going through the gates. There was no one else to stop her…Jelaqua looked around at Hiveno. And orange tears were running from her eyes.

“Nothing could fucking balance that. Not all her miracles. If you told me the cost, I’d tell you it was too high, if you put everything she did on the other side of the scales. And she knows it. She knew it. But—”

The Selphid put her hands over her eyes as her body returned to her. She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes.

“—We would have done the same thing, us idiots. The same thing on the side of a road for people we’d never met. She just made it easier. We were the last ones. There used to be so many of us. We should never have taken our last teammate. She was just a kid. I pointed, and we went. It should have been me. I’d do it again. Every time I dream of it, I can’t stop.”

She was sobbing now. Curling up on the rainy streets, surrounded by spectators, as the other Selphid knelt with her, rain pattering off his cloak. Jelaqua raised her head.

“And now, she gave me back something, somehow. That inn did. It’s wrong. I’ll hate them for it forever.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not a debt you should ever be able to pay. It’s not something I could ever ask for. But they did it. It has…it has to have a cost. Or else everything I’ve done since I set foot on Izril’s shores is meaningless.”

Every moment she put her life on the line and knew the value of it and still risked it all. Every time her team did the hard part because something in them said they had to—

Her anger was gone. Her doubts too, in a way. Jelaqua rose, and suddenly, she was filled with urgency. She had to know what had happened. Only then could she confront him.

She couldn’t even get to her feet. Hiveno had to help her up; Jelaqua’s knees were shaking.

“I think she’s as good as we’re going to get her, Senior Guardsman. We need to get her to another body—she’s fine, but her body is destroyed. I apologize for the scene.”

He called to the Drake, and Jelaqua nodded.

“I’m sorry too. I was having a—I freaked out.”

“Quite alright, Captain. The city owes you more than that.”

Guardsman Lens, who had just been involved in the Zevara case—albeit mostly as a cover for Moass and Hissl—saluted Jelaqua. He recognized her too. Jerci and her squad saluted, and the onlookers started.

“Oh my. It’s you. I thought it might be—Captain, may I help you?”

The pearly-scaled Drake took Jelaqua’s other arm without hesitation. The Selphid hesitated.

“I’m f—thank you. I just need to get to the door.”

“Shivertail Plaza?”

“No, I mean, yes. No…the inn. The Wandering Inn. I need to get there, not to the portal door.”

The Drake woman smiled at Jelaqua as the Selphid shook her head. She must have hit it.

“Not to worry, Captain. My name is Ambiese, incidentally. I’d love to buy you a drink.”

“Me too! Can we help?”

The Human man who’d threatened to punch the Drake offered, and Jelaqua almost imagined they’d carry her. She waved him off, but the gaggle followed her anyways.

“Jerci, clear the streets for us. Let’s just get Captain Ivirith to the inn. Which way is it?”

Lens ordered, and Jerci saluted.

“Sir! I’ll do that! Uh—wait, are we heading that way or this?”

She pointed down the avenue, and Hiveno glanced around.

“…I’ve completely lost my bearings. Captain, which way?”

“Uh, you go out the gates and…no, wait. Where are we?”

“Shield Spider Way, Captain. Where’s the inn?”

Jelaqua stared down the street.

“Right. So we’d go out the city and…straight…no, we go to the hill. It’s on a hill.”

“Where? Outside the city? You ran all the way into Liscor from the inn?”

Lens was impressed; Jelaqua shook her head, but she was getting more confused.

“No! I used the door, I think?”

But the teleportation door—did that lead back to the inn? Jelaqua felt confused. This was so hard, and she knew it wasn’t. She visited the inn all the time. What was going on? Hiveno glanced at Jelaqua, concerned.

“She might have hit herself harder than I thought, Guardsman. Even Selphids can get a kind of concussion. Although the inn is hard to find. I was searching for it all morning.”

“It’s not hard, surely. I was told it was right outside of Liscor.”

Ambiese protested, and Jelaqua shook her head.

“It was. They moved it. It’s…far…?”

Suddenly, she realized she had no idea how to get to the inn. Everyone else was confused as well. The Human man scratched his head.

“Is it in Pallass?”

“Can’t be. It might be up near Celum, though.”

“That’s not right. I swear it was—I’ve seen it! I poked my head in when I went to Esthelm, once. You just—dead gods, did I hit my head? I can’t figure out where it is!”

“Hold on, hold on—let’s all think about this logically. We know the inn can’t be in the Bloodfields. I think. It’s north of that. Almost definitely. If we need to get to it, we probably don’t climb into the High Passes.”

This was insanity. Jelaqua felt that familiar, uncanny sensation on the back of her neck. Lens reached into his belt pouch and yanked out a speaking stone.

“I’ll handle this. Watch Captain Ronss, our mystery Selphid situation is cleared up. We’re taking her to the inn. Ah—could you give us directions from here to the inn?”

He listened. Then nodded.

“He’s getting a map.”

Everyone relaxed except for Jelaqua. After a few seconds, Lens listened. Smiled around.

“Standby.”

A minute passed. He began humming, uncomfortable, as every eye lingered on him. After another minute, Lens fiddled with the speaking stone. After thirty more seconds, he coughed.

“Ah, Watch Captain, have I lost you?”

Then Jelaqua realized the inn was gone, and irony of ironies—the moment she was ready to get back to The Wandering Inn, she couldn’t find it. She began laughing softly in the rain as everyone looked at her.

Then she wondered…did that older Moore laugh too? Was it truly him? She had to know now. Please…

And she wanted to hear Kevin laughing. She began to take one step after another. Not sure what she was hoping to see. Only knowing that she had to see it.

 

——

 

The great trial of locating The Wandering Inn began in the rainy streets of Liscor. A gaggle of Liscorians, new and old, Senior Guardsman Lens, Jerci and a squad of [Guards], Hiveno, Ambiese, and Jelaqua went searching for the inn.

At first, they just tried to retrace Jelaqua’s steps. They made it to Shivertail Plaza, but then were confused how she got here. Had she gone through Pallass, Celum, Esthelm, Riverfarm, or another location via the door to the inn?

So they asked people waiting in line and other pedestrians. No one could figure it out, and some grew increasingly agitated as they realized that they’d forgotten too. In fact, the only person with an inkling of how to get back to the inn was Jelaqua herself.

I know I didn’t run that far. I can’t have with the way I was pushing my body. She was the one who stopped them from heading to Invrisil or Pallass, but Jelaqua was convinced now.

Someone’s done something to hide where the inn is. It’s like a big illusion spell. The Gold-ranker adventurer had faced situations like these before.

“The easiest way would be to connect to the inn itself with a ball of string or something. Or find someone from the inn. They probably know how to fix it. Can we send a [Message]?”

She hoped they were looking for her or at least hadn’t taken her running off as a rejection. Lens nodded, purely bemused. He muttered to himself as he pointed.

“First, someone impersonates me, next I need to find an inn…this way. We’ll go to the Mage’s Guild. I know where that is.”

They were trooping back together, and Miss Ambiese was chatting with the others taking turns helping Jelaqua along. It was quite embarrassing, but the Liscorians seemed to enjoy this.

“I kept being told I’d get my own ‘Solstice Event’ sometime. I reckon this is it. My boss keeps bragging about how he was there when cookies were invented. Now I’ll have a story for him and the lads.”

The burly man was a [Builder] named Nule who had come for the same reason many had. The mother and child were a Gnoll woman named Thirka and Tirra—the girl was being given sweets by Miss Ambiese.

“This nougat’s from my home city. I’m a [Confectioner]. I heard Liscor had a sweet tooth, and here I am! I’d love to visit the inn. I was staying away after the Solstice, and just when I worked my nerve up, the Goblin King happened. But I think I ought to!”

“If we ever get to it, I’ll buy you all drinks. But you don’t have to come, Miss Thirka. It’s wet…”

The Gnollish mother seemed as invested as everyone, and her daughter, Tirra, clung to her paw as if afraid she’d be sent away.

“We are Silverfangs, yes, Captain Ivirith. A bit of rain cannot hurt us. I am more amazed I cannot smell where you went, and Tirra cannot either! What is this ‘Solstice Event’ for?”

“Hiding where the inn is? Makes sense. Plenty of people don’t like it. Maybe you get a prize if you find it?”

“There’s free meals for Selphids today. I was having a delightful steak. I had no idea it did species-appreciation days.”

Hiveno said wistfully, and everyone eyed him. Jerci’s ears perked up.

“It does species-appreciation days? Senior Guardsman Relc never said! Tkrn said sometimes you can get a free snack, but that was only when the inn was a place we had to patrol on duty!”

Lens cursed.

“That bastard. There’s probably a limit on how many get meals free or half-off. I bet he’s keeping it hush-hush on purpose! Just wait until we tell the north Watch House! You know what? I heard Captain Zevara doesn’t visit the inn often despite having a soft spot for that [Innkeeper]. I bet that’s why! She never takes part in lotteries or things where she’d get preferential treatment.”

Jelaqua was struggling to suppress the urge to laugh as hard as she could. She didn’t correct the record; it probably would be good for business, and besides, the inn owed her something for the sheer trauma she’d endured.

But still, finding the inn? The group marching towards the Mage’s Guild realized their struggle might be harder than they thought when they passed by the [Knight].

Right. The [Knight] who was sitting in the street as rain pattered off his helmet. He had a spiked mace on one side, a heater shield on the other, and a crossbow on his back—and a lantern hanging from across one shoulder. His armor was new, if threatening to rust in the rain.

He was also an Antinium. Everyone stopped when they saw him, and Lens called out.

“Er, Sir Knight? Are you okay? I was actually coming to check on reports of you.”

“Yes, Senior Guardsman. Am I not allowed to sit in the street? I will move, of course, if so.”

The Antinium began to move; he spoke well, but he had an odd accent that made Jelaqua instantly think he wasn’t from…Liscor. Then she realized what it was. He had a mellow voice, but he was a Soldier. What in the world?

She stared along with a few Liscorians.

“Hey, that’s not one of ours…”

Lens had heard it too and glanced at Jerci before replying.

“Sitting isn’t a crime, sir. It’s just—are you waiting for something?”

“I am gathering my strength, Guardsman. I apologize if I have disrupted the peace. This goes against my code, my vow, and my Order.”

“No, nono—not at all!”

The Soldier relaxed and began to sit again.

“Ah, excellent.”

Everyone stared at him, and Ambiese raised a claw.

“Cheerio, good sir, but may I ask why are you sitting there? And your, um, name?”

Some old Liscorians winced and drew back reflexively, but the [Knight] glanced up without issue.

“Forgive me, citizen. I forget my training. I am [Squire] Rotellen, a knight-in-training of the Order of Solstice. I am upon a great quest, and I have stopped due to hunger and exhaustion.”

A quest? Jelaqua spoke up with that familiar feeling.

“What kind of quest do they give [Squires], er, Rotellen? And are you from Liscor?”

The Antinium shook his head.

“I am from the Armored Hive. I am new to Liscor. I did not think I had been put upon a quest at first, but it is surely a great one. I have been tasked, you see, with going to The Wandering Inn to request a door be opened for our keep now that it is mostly finished. I travelled to Liscor, but then lost my way yesterday as I was close to the inn. Thus, I have searched for it for the last twenty-six hours in vain.”

He clenched one fist.

“I was entrusted with this sacred duty by none other than Knight Jewel herself! A more senior member of the Order might have been better.”

Jelaqua blinked as the crowd muttered excitedly.

“Since yesterday?”

“Indeed. I have spent twenty-six hours moving about until my body betrayed me with the desire to sit. Thus, I have rested.”

Rotellen’s stomach made a faint squelching sound, and Ambiese lifted the bag of nougat.

“…Do you have nothing to eat?”

The [Squire] hesitated.

“I had brought provisions precisely calculated for my travel. They ran out yesterday. Which implies to me that I was upon my destination, though I cannot now say where it is. Thus, I have combed every street in the hopes of finding the inn. If that then fails, I shall search the Floodplains, though I may well drown. The Order of Solstice would expect nothing less.”

Jelaqua traded glances with Hiveno, then she smiled at the strange, silly Antinium.

“Well, I’m a friend of the inn, and I have to get back there, so you should come with us, Squire Rotellen.”

And that was how an Antinium [Squire] joined their company, eating the nougat hungrily. They talked as they headed to the Mage’s Guild.

“How does an Antinium Soldier speak, let alone so well?”

“I was given a book and a voice by the Armored Queen before I left. The book was of knightly virtues. Thus, I am aware of many facets of my class. How to kiss a [Princess]’ hand. How to declaim. I, along with many [Squires], have been building and training in our keep. It is finished, at least, for now. Hence the need for the door.”

His voice was softer and higher than the bass of some of the Free Antinium Soldiers with voices. And the [Squire] walked as if the armor was second-nature to him, though he was careful never to let the hanging lantern bang against anything.

“You’re one of those flame-knights, aren’t you? Do you have one?”

Mister Nule asked, and the [Squire] nodded. He glared at the rain balefully.

“I carry the pink flame of Glory, as do so many. But that is an easy flame, and in time, mine may change. I would share it but for this rain. How shall we locate the inn? Slay a Dragon? Climb a tower of hair? Challenge another [Knight] to a duel for the answer?”

“I was going to send a [Message] spell.”

“Ah, this would be the tactical acumen which I have yet to learn. I defer to you, Captain.”

Jelaqua was smiling despite the oddity of the day. This silly chaos she could do forever. It was gentle. It was so much better than Pallass where no one knew her name.

But they never made it to the Mage’s Guild. They were found before that—a shape flashed down the street in the pouring rain, and Jelaqua heard a voice.

“I found her! She’s right here—”

Kevin. He was racing around on a bicycle, and he braked hard as he swept his wet hair back. He dismounted and then hesitated.

“Jelaqua. I—”

Kevin. Seeing him again, Jelaqua realized she’d seen him yesterday, but there had been some kind of concealment Skill on him. As it was, his sandy hair and faintly tanned complexion was familiar. He hesitated, not sure if he should speak softly or come closer. It was Jelaqua who lifted a hand.

“Hey, Kevin. C’mere, you. I’m not going to run away this time. Just…are you real?”

He approached, slowly, as the crowd drew back. Jelaqua stood upright as the others let her go, then took one weak step towards him. She faltered, and he caught her.

“Are you okay, Jelaqua? You look—”

He felt real. She strained all the senses her body had, and she could see him stumble slightly as he caught her weight. Jelaqua gazed up at him, and then her grip tightened on his arms.

“It is you. Good. You kids deserve a second chance. Is…did anyone else…? Moore would have given up his place for anyone. Is Halrac there?”

She saw Kevin’s face crumple up and felt herself slipping again, falling into a sea of emotions and regrets and memories. His voice was husky as he helped her stand.

“It didn’t work…like that, Jelaqua. Halrac came back. Everyone did. He went out like a hero again.”

“Ah.”

So it was even bigger than she’d feared. She saw the desolation in his gaze, the terrible knowledge, and it was familiar to her, the Gold-rank adventurer. Jelaqua pulled Kevin closer to her.

“Was there a price? Was the Goblin King part of it?”

“Oh, yes. Only, I didn’t pay it.”

The Selphid smiled with relief as tears filled her vision.

“Good.”

 

——

 

Kevin took her back to The Wandering Inn. Though of course, his name wasn’t ‘Kevin’. He introduced himself to everyone as ‘Randy’, and for some reason, it worked.

Skill.

He knew how to get back, and he explained it to Jelaqua.

“You’re not on the list, sorry. Lyonette says it’s an oversight. You sort of have to come here, then memorize how to find your way back. Mrsha and everyone on the staff and in the family are immune, but us guests and friends struggle. Anyone else is hopeless. I had this [Spy] follow me around—I think he didn’t even know who I was, just that I’d been to the inn. The moment I went for the door, he turned around and walked into a wall.”

She tried to smile. But as he helped her and led the others into the common room of the inn, her eyes were darting around. Where was he? Where—?

Moore wasn’t in the common room, but the rest of the staff and Lyonette was, and they were arguing loudly.

“I told you it was a bad idea! I told you we should have let her know, then done the introductions! We could have gotten a [Witch] and—”

Nanette Weishart was speaking stridently as she pointed at Lyonette. Lyonette sighed back.

“Not everything needs to involve [Witches], Nanette. It would have always been…oh, there she is. Jelaqua!”

“Hey, Lyonette. I brought everyone here for the species free food day.”

Jelaqua smiled weakly as she waved at the crowd who’d come with her. She saw Lyonette’s face go slack and felt a tiny bit bad. Then Lyonette’s face broke into a smile.

“The species free food day? It’s Selphids, but for anyone who helped you, I’ll gladly offer free food and drinks!”

Lyonette, coin-pinching Lyonette, said that? The group cheered, and one of the Drakes punched his fist into the air.

“Yes, I knew there was a prize! Is there a shirt or something I can get? ‘I Survived a Solstice Event’ or something? A medal?”

The [Princess] laughed as her daughters glanced up. Mrsha and Nanette exchanged a look, then went running.

“We might be able to do something like that. Come in, please, everyone! Have a seat! Guardsmen, thank you. Jelaqua, I am so sorry…”

She approached, and that same guilt was in her eyes. Jelaqua croaked.

“You’re right. It would have always been like this. Where is he? Kevin said there’s no one—I have to see him.”

She would have moved around, but her body was giving up the ghost, and she had to sag into a chair as Kevin groaned. Lyonette glanced at her.

“Oh no, have you injured yourself? You moved out all the bodies that used to be in the basement—we can send someone to your home in Pallass. Ishkr, drat! He went out searching for you—just sit, Jelaqua. I…I would have said something, but I was in the theater. I hid the inn yesterday, so I—”

They had so much to say. Lyonette seemed different. Jelaqua wasn’t sure why—oh, wait. Her aura was so much stronger. But it had weird…cracks in it? The [Princess] appeared completely fine.  That was until she winced as she tried to help Jelaqua into her seat and the Selphid got a good look at her hand.

It was a shade too pale in places, and so was the [Princess]’ face. Like someone had applied a heavy foundation but hadn’t mixed the colors quite right…the [Princess] stepped back, smiling. Was one eye slightly too blue?

“I have a lot to tell you, but later. What matters right now is…explanations.”

Ishkr appeared behind the bar with a ‘pop’, shaking water off his fur. When he saw Jelaqua, he nodded.

“Oh, good. You found her. Everyone’s coming back.”

Lyonette gripped her apron as she nodded to Jelaqua.

“We can continue this in the garden. Everyone here deserves a meal?”

“Yes, or two. I can pay.”

The [Princess] shook her head with a mysterious, even mischievous smile.

“I have so much to tell you, Jelaqua! You missed a lot…”

“Yeah, including the Goblin King. It’s my fault for chickening out.”

The Selphid saw the [Princess] freeze up, then Lyonette reached out a gentle hand.

“No one would dream of asking that of you. Jelaqua, I’m so sorry. We weren’t keeping this from you. It’s just—how could I ever tell—? It was his decision, but I’ve never seen him afraid of anything except this. Seborn doesn’t know yet.”

Jelaqua was searching for words, gagging at the impatience and fear in her chest, but they were saved from having to have this coded conversation by Knight Rotellen.

He had sunk to his knees in the inn, and all four arms were raised to the sky. He cried out.

“Praise the flames! I have arrived! My quest is at an end!”

Then he rose to one knee as Lyonette turned. The Antinium tried to take her hand and kiss it with his mandibles.

“Your Highness, I am Squire Rotellen on a quest, in the name of the Order of Solstice! I beg of thee—may we be granted a [Door of Portals] to the order’s keep? And, if this should serve, I am instructed to ask for thirty seats upon the night’s repast.”

Jelaqua was laughing softly at the expression on Lyonette’s face as the [Princess] tried to tug her hand out of Rotellen’s grip and say ‘yes, of course, what quest?’

Then the door to the common room opened, and a man ducked through, rain pattering off his green cloak. Jelaqua turned, and there he was.

Moore.

No, what had Kevin called him? Lord Moore. And it fit. It explained it. This was not the shy half-Giant she knew, who deferred to everyone, who seemed to shrink to appear less imposing.

This was…a stranger, who walked with his head held high with that sense of internal gravitas that belonged to nobles. He was stronger, more dangerous. More magical, she could tell, with an aura like stone and tree—

Older. There were hints of grey in his beard. He was not her Moore. And nor was she his Jelaqua.

That was why they cut each other, like two pieces of glass so sharp they scored the other just by being in proximity.

The Halfseekers. Though she did not know it yet—they were both former Halfseekers. Their teams disbanded. The last two in Jelaqua and Seborn’s case. The last of all in his.

He halted, eyes fixed on her as she leaned against the table, and she tried to stand. Time to talk…Lyonette was already summoning the [Garden of Sanctuary].

But as these things happened, the two Halfseekers didn’t get the chance to step away. Moore was approaching slowly when someone rose to his feet.

“That’s impossible. A half-Giant? I swore I heard that the last half-Giant residing on Izril was dead.”

Hiveno, the [Merchant] Selphid, blinked at Moore, and he turned, distracted. His voice was deeper than Jelaqua remembered, but it stabbed her when he spoke.

“Ah. You’re referring to…Moore. Moore of the Halfseekers. I am his uncle. Lord Mireden Raithland. He was indeed the last half-Giant. I have come from Terandria to Liscor. Are you the ones who helped Captain Ivirith to reach the inn? I thank you.”

He stretched out a hand, and Hiveno took it.

“Merchant Hiveno. I apologize for my indiscretion, Lord Raithland.”

“Not at all. Few would think to remember the distinction at all. Let alone that the Halfseekers had Izril’s last half-Giant.”

The half-Giant murmured, and Jelaqua tried to push herself up. She opened her mouth—and a voice broke in.

“I hate to object, sir, but as fate would have it, I quite remember! The Halfseekers are a team for whom I hold the greatest esteem, both in Liscor and as a child growing up! If I may…your nephew saved so many lives, and I must thank you and Captain Ivirith properly for what they did. I attended the funeral, of course, but I…I never managed to say anything.”

Miss Ambiese raised a hand, and Moore turned to her. Jelaqua turned as well.

“Thank you, Miss Ambiese. And for standing up for me back there. It’s all we wanted.”

The Drake from Veish peered at Jelaqua’s face and the way the Selphid smiled in that strained way, almost self-deprecatingly, and she fumbled with the menu she’d been given. Then she rubbed at one eye.

“I…but you deserve so much more. Oh dear. Oh my. I think I’m tearing up. This is highly embarrassing.”

Lord Mireden hesitated, but then he came over to offer her a handkerchief embroidered with Liscor’s own sigil. Although it was different, as if someone had hung a bunch of bells from a more elegant city’s towers…

“Yes. Yes, they deserved more. Thank you for believing it, Miss.”

He knelt, and he was still far taller than she was. His sorrow was far older than Jelaqua’s, and his hand light as a feather as he rested it on Ambiese’s shoulder. Jelaqua saw someone slip from her chair.

“I told Miss Satar about it! And I cried all day. This is for you, Captain.”

Tirra, the little Gnoll girl, ran over with something in her paws. She nearly fell on her face until Lord Moore wiggled a finger—instead of faceplanting, the girl stumbled as a piece of stone lifted up, supporting a foot. Jelaqua saw the girl catch herself, stare at the ground which had already melted back into the floorboards, and then offer the Selphid something.

It was one of the Silverfang’s trinkets: a silver fang hanging from a necklace. Jelaqua took it.

“Oh, that’s beautiful. Is this for me?”

“Yes, it’s mine, but Mother says you can have it! Please take it? It’s lucky.”

Of course, the Selphid agreed after glancing at Miss Thirka, who nodded and rose. Then, before she knew it, Nule was walking over, hand outstretched.

“Er, Lord Mireden, sir? I reckon this isn’t much, but I wanted to say thank-you as well. My family was behind those walls, and we heard it was your nephew’s team what held back that thing there. We might all be dead, and I—I think I didn’t really give it the thought it deserved afterwards. But your nephew, that Guildmistress, even the fellows with the hats deserve a statue in the city or something. Just like that [General] in the plaza. Or some kind of reward.”

There were nods of agreement, and the half-Giant thanked Nule and glanced at Jelaqua.

“We have statues, sir. That is, the Halfseekers do. As for a reward…being remembered is enough.”

The [Builder] began to nod, then caught himself and looked the half-Giant in the eyes.

“—That’s not true, begging your pardon, Your Lordship. There should be something more.”

He scuffed one foot, embarrassed at speaking to what he thought was clearly a noble. But when he glanced at Jelaqua, the Selphid realized she was smiling.

Dead gods, it hurt. But those words were a far more beautiful dagger. Lord Moore nodded at Nule silently, and Jelaqua coughed.

“That’s the kind of thing we’ve got to say, Nule. Or else it gets to our heads. We can’t count debts like that. The Halfseekers never have.”

She was watching the half-Giant’s face as he leaned on a staff, a huge, magical artifact. Lord Moore didn’t instantly agree with her. Instead, he stared past Jelaqua.

“Perhaps we—your team should have, Captain Jelaqua. Sometimes, they gave so much without a word. Who remembers all their deeds over the three d—two decades you adventured? Theirs is a legacy worthy of any Named-rank team. But because you never won victories in dungeons, instead against bandits for copper coins…who remembers those adventures?”

His voice was bitter and deep, and no one could answer that. Jelaqua saw Kevin sitting at one table, hesitating, as if wanting to jump in, but someone forestalled him. A young Gnoll woman with brown fur, just watching Jelaqua with hungry, sad eyes.

Mrsha and Nanette working at a table with Apista, peeking at them. Ser Dalimont, tossing someone out the window. A spy who’d gotten too nosy? Someone in the crowd who’d been sharp enough to use her to come to the inn?

There is no privacy here. But they couldn’t just walk away, so Jelaqua spoke to him, this older man.

“I met a woman just this morning who remembers. If we did it for the glory, we’d have all quit long ago. It didn’t change her life, mind you. She did her own thing, and we were just…there. Maybe there are some we saved who remember us. But what more could you want? A memory is more than most get.”

She shrugged, and the half-Giant turned to her, and his brown eyes flashed as he clenched a fist.

“The Halfseekers saved a city’s life. Not just…recently. They would have been forgotten except for the memory being written down. Sometimes, I wish it had been insisted on. Sometimes…”

He hesitated. Met her eyes and gazed away. She hung her head.

“Yeah. But we weren’t that important. Besides…Lord Raithland, what’s the point? The dead can hear no applause. Better to be alive. If I could wish for anything, if I deserved anything from all of our adventures, I’d ask for—I’d wish for—”

Her eyes were welling up with tears again. Then she saw it. It hit her like a [Lightning Bolt] out of the blue as the white Gnoll girl froze at her table. Jelaqua’s mouth opened.

“Oh. That’s why. That’s exactly what I…”

She peered at him wordlessly, and the half-Giant nodded and glanced to the side. Then he hunched in his chair.

“You’re wrong, though, Jelaqua. Be it so petty, but a legacy matters. And I will ensure the Halfseekers have theirs in Liscor. Griffon Hunt too. Not something so simple as a statue. Nor children named after our friends and companions. A legacy. Something to be proud of. The virtues you shared with your team, and…”

He clenched a fist.

“Safety. However long it lasts. That battle we fought, won for a hundred thousand people. Won and kept. No more monsters to come back. What we fought for will remain, and no one will tarnish that legacy. If only we remember it, so be it. We know what we did. That is what I came here to do.”

His words stirred the audience, each in a different way. But Jelaqua just saw, in the older Moore’s eyes, something she understood.

“Ah. You’re the last of your own team of crazy adventurers, aren’t you, Lord Raithland?”

The half-Giant blinked, then smiled. He took a mug from a tray that one of the Goblins was carrying around and lifted it, a small cup in his huge hand.

“In another world, another time, Jelaqua. Yes. I…almost didn’t come, you know. I could have retired. What held me back wasn’t the struggle nor the journey or odds. I had every reason to come, because I am needed. But I have been so long alone, I feared this.”

So he was just like her. The Selphid pushed herself up and swiped a mug from her tray. She knew they were all watching her, and she lifted the mug up.

“Fair, Lord Mireden. But I think you know this: the Halfseekers will never adventure again. Whatever we do, whatever we are, we fought our last battle in Liscor.”

“There was never any doubt.”

He whispered. Then they chinked mugs hard—the ale that looked vaguely like piss slopped to the floor and over their hands. It seemed as though the words hurt some of the listeners, but Jelaqua just breathed easy.

“Not again. I could never do it again. We drew a bloody line in the snow, and when I woke, I was tired of it. Tired of finding another line to draw. I needed…we needed to find something else. Some other way. We were always terrible adventurers, because we couldn’t focus on the glory and treasure and our own skins. That was how I let my team down.”

She met his eyes, waiting for judgement from the only being who could give it. And he—his hand cracked the mug as it tightened around it, and then he reforged the wood in his grip. The half-Giant stared at Jelaqua, then past her.

“Perhaps. Perhaps you did let them down, Jelaqua. But you also found each and every one of them. Lost, untrusted, and gave them a purpose. Yes, maybe, you could have given us better lives and we, all the Halfseekers, could be living now.”

She staggered slightly, and the half-Giant’s eyes focused on her. Then he lifted a finger.

“However, if they were there at any moment when it mattered, when there was one less Halfseeker in the world—Moore, Seborn, Garen, Ukrina, Ulinde, all of them—they would have told you to charge. So whose fault was it?”

The Selphid was shaking, laughing, and crying. She forced the words out.

“What a terrible team we were! Here’s to the Halfseekers, the Half Freaks of Izril—they didn’t know when to quit!”

She raised her mug and drank, and not a single person drank with her. So Lord Mireden Raithland rose to his feet, and his voice boomed across the entire inn, making visitors in the portal room start, as if the hills had developed tongues.

“For the Halfseekers of Izril! For everyone who has ever searched for the meaning that eludes them! For those who shared that burden and fought for their better halves!”

Jelaqua saw the young Gnoll woman leap to her feet, and then she knew it was Mrsha. An older Mrsha who grabbed a mug—and Kevin rose with her along with Mrsha and Nanette, the staff, and the Watch—and they took a drink.

The Selphid tossed her mug down and reached out a hand. Moore caught her arm, and she squeezed with all her might and felt his crushing grip on her arm. One of her bones broke; she didn’t care.

They held each other as if to never let go again.

 

——

 

Of course, they did let go, and the day did not turn into a full party. That wouldn’t have been appropriate. There were quite a number of tears and a few more toasts by impassioned guests, and Lyonette came out with food and drinks for all, on the house.

But Jelaqua and Moore didn’t hear or see any of it.

They walked in a [Garden of Sanctuary], the Drathian one. It was always scenic; pink cherry blossom petals fluttered down around them as they crossed the red bridge over the koi-infested pond, and Jelaqua wondered if the tree got tired of growing and shedding the blossoms.

Lord Moore gazed at the tree as well as he leaned on the bridge. He seemed like he didn’t know what to say, so he cleared his throat and nodded to the tree.

“It’s got to be four thousand years old—at least. I’m amazed it hasn’t overgrown, but whomever made this [Garden of Sanctuary] did it with more skill than Erin or the other builders.”

“Oh? Four thousand? Really?”

The tree didn’t look that old. Sure, it was old, but even trees died. Lord Moore reached up and caught a petal.

“It’s always shedding blossoms. Haven’t you noticed? It’s under a kind of stasis spell so that it doesn’t age. Fed enough to grow and…”

“Dead gods. That sounds like torture. Not that a plant has feelings.”

The half-Giant chuckled softly as he walked across the bridge to rest a hand on the tree’s bark. He closed his eyes.

“Oh, they do. But this one’s calm. Much like a half-Elf. I’d call it snooty, actually. I never could get on with half-Elves, even after I retired. I dated six—all but one kept trying to elevate themselves over the ‘younger’ races in some way. Age was the only thing they had a great advantage in. So that was how they framed the entire world.”

Jelaqua felt a smile stretching across her face. She’d been afraid she’d start blubbering again, and it was close, but those simple words revealed so much. He was more refined. More confident; her Moore had never criticized unless he truly hated someone. But this one?

“You? Dated?”

He half-turned his head, embarrassed as he brushed blossoms out of his hair.

“I know how that must sound, but, well, yes. After I was alone, I was so damned lonely…I took Seborn’s advice and put myself out there. Being Level 50 didn’t hurt. Most of the teams from my world did the same. I think Erin’s death made everyone treasure the time they had left.”

Oh, and they were right into it. Jelaqua swallowed and tried to keep her voice neutral.

“Really? Everyone? G-got any good gossip?”

The half-Giant glanced at her, then pulled out some bread and began to rip it and toss it into the pond. She stared at the gaping koi mouths as he hmmed.

“Well, Pisces. Married three—no, four times. Poor man.”

“Pisces? No, wait, I can see it. Give him a scrub and stop him sniffing and he’d fool someone. Four times, though? Really?”

The half-Giant shrugged.

“He was trying to keep the Horns together after Ksmvr died.”

“Oh.”

He turned guiltily.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to—it’s not happened in this world, has it? It won’t if I have anything to do with—”

She touched his arm. It felt like her nerves were tingling despite them being torn and dead.

“Just tell me. You’re not my Moore, and I’m not your Jelaqua.”

The Selphid’s eyes rose.

“—But we’re Halfseekers. We are, aren’t we?”

His lips moved as he whispered.

“Yes. Always and never again.”

Silence until he handed her some bread. She bounced her first piece off a koi fish’s head as she listened. Moore stared ahead.

“I think…I think it fell apart because Pisces couldn’t ever give up on Erin. It wasn’t that he loved her like that. I don’t think—but Yvlon left. And Ceria? Ceria went mad.”

“The circlet?”

“She’s wearing it in this world?”

“Yep.”

Moore raised the handful of bread to throw, then gently tossed it in the water.

“I’ll try to deal with that too, but that’s magic beyond me. I’m not that great a [Mage].”

“Pull the other one.”

“No, I’m not. Truly. I’m a Level 50 [Lord]-[Mage] combo. I studied all the new magic as it came out, but I wasn’t pioneering it. That would be Valeterisa, Eldavin, and so on. You’re right on track in this world, even if it’s different. Ceria as well…it’s no wonder Pisces couldn’t hold it together by himself.”

“I’ve seen Wistram’s magic all over. It’s insane. Levitating cushions, magical carriages, and even Boots of Flying. Are they going to make [Engineers] obsolete? Also, who’d Pisces marry?”

Moore lifted a hand and brushed at his beard.

“Well, that’s an interesting question—the Wistram one. I’ve been comparing the progress in my world to yours, and you’re ahead and behind. Pisces, though, far more fascinating. The first was Revi. They had a kid together.”

“…I can sort of see that, actually.”

“Apparently, so could she. But she retired, and he didn’t. That was probably the best marriage. The second was Princess Jecaina of Jecrass—”

Jelaqua nearly laughed herself off the railing. Lord Moore gave her a somber gaze.

“I’m serious.”

“A [Princess]? That [Princess]? That’s a terrible idea!”

“Yes. It was. It might have worked except that he married her not four months after he and Revi split.”

“Oh! Oh, Pisces!”

Moore was nodding and smiling. Pained, but the topic of Pisces was like a weird balm. He counted on his fingers.

“They held it together for eight months. And after the second divorce, I think it sort of set expectations. Selys was third, and she should have been first.”

“Firestrike me, Selys…that could have worked.”

“Yes. But not then. Neither one walked into that marriage at the right time, as the right people—she had her own relationships that didn’t work. Age and our times…that one was bitter.”

He exhaled, and now it wasn’t fun. Jelaqua listened with a pain for someone who didn’t exist, in a time that never would be. Moore’s voice dropped low, now.

“Then came the marriage where I didn’t show up. I think the only one who went to it was Mrsha.”

“Please tell me I don’t know who it is.”

Jelaqua wanted to laugh again. Then cry…poor lad. He deserved better than that, but Moore was describing something breaking in the future. And his smile faded.

“Falene Skystrall.”

The Selphid leaned over the railing.

“That’s not funny.”

“No one thought it was. I think they rather liked each other in some strange way. But no…most of the stories I could tell you are like that. I’m sorry, it was amusing until I heard myself talking. We come from a broken world. Maybe it was always broken, our future, but it really did seem to get worse after Erin died. We all pushed ourselves to snapping to help her. I had all but given up except that Mrsha had turned eighteen. She was going on one last adventure, and I thought…that was it. Maybe, just maybe—”

Lord Moore turned to Jelaqua, and there were tears in his eyes.

“That’s how it fell apart for a decade, Jelaqua. That’s why I came back. To avert it. I know the secrets of Liscor’s dungeon. I have slain the Mother of Graves. This time, her plans will come to naught.”

He stood before her, and she had nothing to say. If she had been masking her grief in Pallass playing at Maughin’s wife…Jelaqua nodded. Then she whispered the real question.

“So, what do you remember last?”

Not—yesterday or anything trivial like that. He understood. The half-Giant turned, and the reflected flames blazed in his brown eyes. His grief-stricken face turned, and he whispered.

“My city burning. Rhir’s damned [Heroes] pouring up the hill—and everything I thought would last this time vanishing. I stood in the doorway as long as I could, until it cracked and there was nothing left. My entire world a dream. Then I remember laughing like a madman and hoping reality was brighter.”

A fragment of glass, a fake man turned to Jelaqua Ivirith, and she whispered as the snow stung her face. The howling of Draugr and a battle in the distance condensing down to a single point. A decision already made.

“I thought she didn’t belong. The Hag Queen. It wasn’t fair. There was no way to prepare for her, no way to see her coming, let alone the Draugr. And I thought—if we went slow, we might stop them after a few streets. Harry them. And I was counting—counting. Maybe it’d only be a dozen. A few dozen. If she started reanimating them, if they breached the gates fully, maybe thousands. But the city could fight. It should fight. No one should ask it of us. I shouldn’t. Then I remember her laughing and trying to reach her. Just reach her and—”

She blinked, and tears were running down her face.

“—And then I woke up, and for a second, I thought we’d made it. Before I heard Seborn crying.”

Neither one said anything, then.

After a while, they kept moving. The Selphid and half-Giant knew each other, then. Strangers, now, telling each other what was and what might be.

They had always been on the same team.

“So, Wistram.”

“Right, Wistram! Bunch of magical artifacts everywhere. Is that the future or what?”

Lord Moore handed Jelaqua a ring.

“This is the future.”

“This? Whoa! It’s tiny! I could swallow it!”

“Please don’t. Everyone was on their rings so much in my world that I feel so out-of-touch today, not calling up everyone or sending messages. It’s not that magical.”

“Pull the other one.”

“No, really. This kind of magic is everyday; you charge them up at stations because magical gemstones are so expensive. But the big magic? [Flying]? No one can do that cheap. You can buy a [Flying] spell, but it’s still expensive. That’s why I think Wistram Academy is lying.”

Jelaqua’s head tilted, and her ears perked up with some more actionable reality.

“How’s that then? Archmage Eldavin made some actual Boots of Flying. Is it a lower-tier spell? Or some other trick?”

Lord Moore stroked his beard.

“No, I well believe he can make them. However, the question is—how many?”

“Ahh. But people are ordering them.”

“I’m sure he’s having them outbid each other, but I would very much like to know how many such goods he can produce. Archmage Valeterisa stays at this inn—watch her, she’ll change magic forever—and she’s been complaining about making magical items to fulfill a quota.”

“She would complain. She’s too busy humping Relc to do anything.”

The half-Giant chuckled.

“They were never together in my…that’s good. She looks so different. No, I rather think that she’s being press-ganged into making artifacts because no one else can.”

“Ooh. So we’re looking at dozens of Relic-class items appearing, not hundreds or tens of thousands?”

Lord Moore lifted a finger, and now his face grew crafty in a way the old Moore’s had sometimes been. Jelaqua was too tired to cry, so she just smiled. He glanced around.

“Not even dozens, perhaps. My suspicion is that Archmage Eldavin is using a very limited resource to make these Boots of Flying. A levitating cushion? Anyone can do that. It’ll hog far more mana than Wistram is advertising. Too many and a city will go mana-negative—they’re overvaluing their products. But Relic-class items require a substance that isn’t being mined anywhere in the world—yet.”

“Which is?”

She wondered if he’d keep her in the dark, but the half-Giant merely winked at her.

“It’s called ‘seith’, and finding it will revolutionize magic. But it only comes from the deep, deep sea where it condenses. Drowned Folk were the only producers of the stuff in my world—obviously, nations like the Blighted Empire were trying to acquire more, but my bet is that Eldavin needs it, Archmage of Memories or not.”

Jelaqua swore she’d heard that word coming up more than once before, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.

“So Wistram’s crashing all the other markets, including Pallass’ Engineering Guild, with empty promises?”

“Promises they can’t fulfill at scale, certainly. But there is fire under the smoke. And if they continue expanding their dominance…I have a little plan to counter them in Liscor, but anything larger is beyond me. The Mother of Graves is my focus now.”

He grew serious again, and Jelaqua shivered and glanced down.

“Okay. You keep throwing that name out, but I don’t even know…her. I’m ready. Tell me who that is and what you’re doing.”

The half-Giant gazed at her, and now the pain was on his face, and the determination. He murmured.

“Are you sure? This is the tale of how you died, Jelaqua.”

She beamed up at him as she took his arm.

“Well, it’s about time we got to the easy stuff! C’mon, you big lug. How can I help?”

“You’re retired, Jelaqua. And you’re going to stay that way.”

“Oh, right…”

They strolled through the garden as the Selphid sighed. But even when she looked up at him, striding along and listing his plans out, she and he both agreed, silently, as they met each other’s eyes.

Never again.

 

——

 

It was no [Immortal Moment], their stroll in the Drathian garden together, and they did talk until they were both fairly hoarse, then returned to the inn where they were given a nervous welcome.

Jelaqua smiled at Lyonette and gave her a thumbs up. She was ready to explode with emotions—and knowledge. However, as Lord Mireden pointed out while glancing at a glowing ring projecting an image into the air…

“It’s only 2 PM. I truly can’t be drunk yet today. I have work to do. Jelaqua, will you walk with me some more? You could watch me put part of the plan into action.”

Jelaqua glanced up from where she was taking huge gulps of water at the bar. She pointed at the track-lines of yellow on her cheeks from all the crying.

“What? Hell no! I’ve already nearly died of dehydration! I’m going to be blubbering like a seal baby if I walk with you, you gigantic prat. Give me an hour or two to breathe! Then I’ll have more questions. We’ll have a drink tonight or something.”

She was going to go berserk if she kept this up, and the half-Giant bowed to her with a slight smile.

“Fair. We have our own lives, and…I haven’t had the courage to face Seborn.”

“I wouldn’t. Dead gods.”

She leaned against him, then jumped back. They gazed at each other, strangers who hurt each other, but they’d come back, she knew. Like magnets armed with lances. She forced herself back, away.

“You…I was going to murder you for a second. Now I want to know how this happened and thank someone. Possibly punch them.”

Lord Moore lifted a hand.

“Thank them, I think. They’ve paid too high a price already. And their reasons—listen to their reasons.”

Oh, this was going to be sad. Jelaqua cast around.

“I need a pitcher of water or I will croak. And a new body. This one’s tear ducts are clogging.”

“Gross as ever, Captain.”

He tried to hide a smile as he turned his head. Then he was striding from the inn, and Jelaqua collapsed into a seat. Only when someone patted her on the arm did she peek up.

Jelaqua? How are you feeling?

A very worried Mrsha was standing there, nose a bit snotty. She’d been crying too. Jelaqua swept her into her arms.

“I’m going to be fine, Mrsha. It’s just…hah! This inn!”

She buried her face in the girl’s shoulder. Then looked up.

It’s you. You’re the one. It was always the eyes. Mrsha had the expression of children who’d gone to war. She hadn’t had that before, for all she’d lived. Jelaqua held her gently.

“Good job, kid. You stole something back from the tally of Baleros, the ledger of the deeps. Crossed one off the adventurer’s lists. Now you’ve got to tell me how it happened, but properly. Every great deed needs to be told well, got it? Later, okay? We’ve got all the time for a good tale.”

Mrsha’s eyes filled up again, and Jelaqua ruffled her hair.

“I’d make a great parent. Eh, probably not.”

She let Mrsha go and turned. Some of the people who’d helped her here were leaving, but all of them took their time to say goodbye. Thank her again—and the inn’s staff and Lyonette were all giving her this eye.

No wonder Moore ran for it. This is going to be underwater with snot and tears if I stay. So Jelaqua pulled herself up.

“I’m for Pallass. Can, uh, someone help me?”

Well then, nothing would do but Peggy and Mrsha support her, and the lopsided combo got her to the [Door of Portals]. Jelaqua found it funny how no one knew how to get to the inn, even though it was literally right out the door.

Some Skill. I have to ask about Lyonette’s cracks too. Ah, she was getting embroiled in the inn. That was okay, but Jelaqua was conscious she had a life in Pallass. Like she’d said to Moore—the Halfseekers were no more. She could be a friend, but not the last person standing in the inn between the monsters.

Perhaps the inn was ready for the next one. She hoped so. Jelaqua waited in line and realized, once again, she had a delay.

“Only people exiting through the door! We’re closed for an hour! Yeah, yeah, cry me a river!”

Liska was shouting at the people waiting outside. She was speaking with Lyonette and, of all people, Knight Rotellen. Why was it closing?

Oh, right. The new door. Liska rubbed her paws together.

“Good thing I actually know where this new anchor has to be. Hey presto! Abracadabra! New…door!”

She waved her paws around, then pointed at the [Door of Portals]. Much to the chagrin of everyone watching, that worked. Liska swung the door open and then hopped out.

“Ooh, nice and sunshiney. Is this right up against the High Passes? Yep, I can even see the other pass! Nice fort. Very block-like.”

She admired the Order of Solstice’s keep, and Lyonette peered outside.

“This is near Orefell. More mining. We’re happy to offer transport to the Knights of Solstice, of course, Squire Rotellen! And I do apologize about the confusion—I’d love to speak to Normen now, if he’s here?”

The Squire was raising all four arms skywards.

“No more damned rain! Praise the flames! The Grandmaster may be here, Princess Lyonette, or on a crusade against the forces of evil.”

“Oh my, which ones?”

Jelaqua limped onto the grass to see the new place since she wasn’t that strapped for time. She saw the Order of Solstice’s keep was indeed a rather ugly block of stones, but it was well under construction, and there were distant figures in armor training in cleared ground. They were next to a road, and…she squinted.

“Are those Eater Goats? Fuck, someone get a weapon!”

She pointed, and Mrsha’s eyes widened in alarm. Peggy began to drag them back into the inn, but Rotellen just nodded.

“Ah, yes. Our new beasts of war. They come from the village that trains Eater Goats. I would love to show you all around the keep; especially you, Captain Jelaqua.”

The Selphid opened her mouth and hesitated. After all this?

But ‘Eater Goat pets’—you just had to.

 

——

 

It was actually the subject of an argument when the group approached. Knight Ama was arguing with none other than Normen himself.

“They were chewing on Sillias! And one ate my Gargoyle skeleton’s leg! We don’t need them!”

A very defensive Antinium wearing armor was petting a goat in his hands.

“But they are adorable, vicious pets that may be sacrificed in battle, Knight Ama!”

“This is insane, even for us! And I’m the one animating Gargoyle skeletons as footsoldiers! Normen, if one more of them tries to nibble my robes, I’m going to—oh hey, look, the inn’s here.”

Ama turned, and Grandmaster Normen smiled as he saw everyone.

“Squire Rotellen, we were going to search for you! But no one could remember where the inn was. I assume this is something new and normal?”

He glanced at Lyonette, and she took a breath.

“Yes, Normen. It’s on purpose. I, ah—”

He lifted a hand.

“Say no more. Just let us know how we can get there, and we’ll adapt. It’s a good measure.”

It was a reminder that Normen was a veteran of the inn’s staff. He just welcomed everyone into the Order of Solstice’s keep.

“I’d offer you refreshments, but I think yours are far better. Everything is under construction. The armory is a mess, and we’d finish building it—the Antinium [Squires] are excellent, except that we’re too busy—”

There was a hornblast that made everyone jump, and Normen winced. None other than Jewel came racing around the corner with Durene and Vess.

“Bandits! They’re around Reizmelt! I need twenty [Squires] in ten minutes! Let’s get the bastards! Oh hey, Lyonette. The inn’s not facing another Goblin King? Good! Charge!”

She ran out of the unfinished war room, and Jelaqua saw twenty of the practicing [Knights] turn, then charge after Jewel, Durene, and Vess towards a wagon. They seemed ready to race into the distance except for the wagon which rolled to a stop.

The Heavy Roller, Chaoisa, the Contempt of Man, was burning her orange flame, and the [Knights] piled into her wagon—as many could fit. The rest ran to the stables, and they practically stormed down the road.

“Oh my. You’re rather…active, Normen. Should you be fighting [Bandits] already?”

Lyonette sounded dismayed, but Normen just grinned, and Jelaqua was entirely approving.

“They’ve got to prove they’re worth all the support, Lyonette. You can’t just take your time building things and go out when you’re ready. This is messy and good for these fellows. Some [Knights] you can catch with their pants down because they think you signal when it’s time to fight and they have all day to breakfast and stretch. Not this lot.”

Normen nodded gratefully at her.

“That’s right. I look at it like a street fight. Any moment, anywhere. Though I’d love if you had input on how we’re organizing. It is still messy, Captain…”

Jelaqua didn’t mind. She let Normen show her around and made a few comments about how she’d done things in Baleros and best practices—and the entire while, she was remembering Moore.

Later. Later. Mrsha was clinging to her, and Lyonette left after a moment. She claimed to be tired—Jelaqua eyed Peggy.

“Is she hurt? Give it to me straight, Peggy.”

The Hobgoblin sucked on her teeth.

“Yah, she hurt bad. That a secret, and she did it to herself. But good! We all super proud of her.”

She nodded, and Mrsha did too. Jelaqua shook her head ruefully as Normen gave them a curious look. He coughed.

“I can see I have a lot to catch up on. We’re taking some of the [Squires] to the inn for food. More now that Jewel’s run off. I’d go with her, but one of the [Knights] has to be here at all times. Where was I? Armory, right…anti-thief measures are very important. This is the only finished part of the keep. I wasn’t sure, but it makes sense in hindsight. This is what we need.”

The only part of the keep that was fully enclosed, and had been built with the most care, was the polished marble flooring and rather grand room with a long carpet beyond two double doors.

Ostentatious—Jelaqua thought it’d be some kind of meeting room, but when the doors opened, she just sighed.

“Of course. You’re really her [Knights] after all, aren’t you?”

The little Gnoll girl, Hobgoblin, and Selphid saw the room beyond had no window. No natural light. But it was filled with flames, which would have been a considerable problem given the smoke, except they were all magical flames, burning not on regular fuel but pools of bright stone. Magicore.

Each one stood on a brazier of its own with room for more along the alcoves on the walls. And the alcoves were likewise bare and empty.

All except for one.

The [Knight] who stood in stone held a lantern up and had a greatsword on one shoulder. Embraim, the first Antinium Knight of Solstice, stood before the brazier with a single word etched onto it. The pink flames roared as Jelaqua’s eyes were consumed by them.

Glory.

A [Bowman] stood before the blue flames, his lips a line of determination, as weighty as the blue flames which burned there.

Halrac Everam. Again, she was struck, and the blue flames roared with sadness, depression, the weight of that one man.

She turned her head and saw, in the center of the room, a Gnollish [Knight] standing like a suit of armor, clasping a sword between both paws. Brunkr…and Herove’s image was carved into a statue kneeling against the far wall. Zanze, the [Driver], sat next to him, torch raised in one hand.

Smiling. Normen glanced at the man before he faced the others.

“This is where we keep the fire. Not that we cannot generate it ourselves, but the [Squires] need it. They come in here almost daily. It’s a kind of ritual. I think it will be good for us. It should be humbling.”

Normen stood before the green flame of honor and gazed into the brazier. The flames rose higher as he passed a hand over them, and they danced between his fingers.

Peggy was wondering, eyes aglow as she gazed between flames. From grey mercy to Durene’s red of kindness to other flames like Antherr’s combination hazel fire that burned with determination.

Jelaqua saw both weapon and meaning in this room. And she imagined the [Knights] preparing for battle, dipping their lanterns in a flame and bearing it forth.

Someday, this will be a Knight Order as famous as the Order of Seasons. If they survive. The Selphid didn’t say that out loud, and Normen coughed and turned.

“I needn’t tell you all about the flames. Or the [Emberbearer] who started it all.”

He ruffled Mrsha’s hair, and she swatted at him.

Stop that! I’m just a survivor. You’re way cooler than I ever was.

He gazed down at Mrsha, then at Jelaqua. Normen knew what she’d just been told about, and he nodded sympathetically.

“Tonight, we shall talk, if it is appropriate. I won’t take up your time. All of you are welcome to visit the keep; especially you, Captain Ivirith, if you wished to impart some wisdom.”

“I’ll look in my boots for it.”

Instead of taking offense, Normen just grinned. But he halted them before they left this special room of fire.

“Before you go, may I offer you a gift? It is again—traditional for as long as we’ve done it, all of four weeks. That’s how we got the Eater Goats, actually. There’s a village near here that gifted them to us. Like attack dogs, but…they’re good for corpse disposal, I guess.”

He wasn’t sold on the Eater Goats, but he walked over and found something. Lanterns. The Order of Solstice had tons of them—some carved out of wood, others burnished metal and glass. He handed each of them the cheap, wooden ones. Then nodded at the braziers.

“If you’d like—take one. All except the black flames. Those are off-limits to guests.”

His three guests regarded each other.

“What, the fire? You just giving this away?”

Peggy was incredulous. Normen smiled. He had a twinkle in his eyes, and he replied in that accent from the streets.

“Free’s free. A fellow walks away with anything in his pockets, and the flames are magical, but cheap, as it were. All they need is fuel to burn. It’s a fancy gift that impresses everyone from Couriers to nobles and costs us not a copper.”

“You penny-pinching bastard. You’re Lyonette’s disciple too.”

Jelaqua laughed. Normen winked as Mrsha puffed up with outrage. Give away Erin’s flames?

But it wasn’t the [Innkeeper]’s choice. Normen forestalled Mrsha’s outrage with a hand.

“I think, soon, we will hold flames that even Erin does not know, Mrsha. Those will be ours. Besides…most cannot keep the flames alive. They burn for a day, a week, even a month. No more. I believe, though, you might keep them alive as long as you want.”

He was eying Jelaqua, now, and the Selphid didn’t understand. She swept her eyes around the room as Mrsha took a lantern, then decided she wanted some of Antherr’s flame. Peggy already was scooping up some blue flames.

“What? Sometimes you want to be sad. Ooh, nice and heavy.”

“Which should I pick?”

Normen shrugged.

“Go to what calls to you. The flame will pick you.”

He paused, then leaned over to Mrsha.

“It really does sound better when I talk like that. Very impressive. Is there another movie in that series? Jewel wants to watch the second one.”

Oh, buddy, there are a bunch. I’ll cue them up for you if Jewel gets back by tonight.

Jelaqua ignored them as she walked between the braziers. She felt each flame washing over her, emphasizing the idea in her chest. When she stood before mercy, she truly did feel it in her—invigorating her capacity to feel mercy, and perhaps, the mercy she might not deserve.

If you could not understand it, if you had little of it, the flames shrank. Depression grew as Jelaqua walked past it, but she didn’t want that. She had enough, thanks. She was walking back to Normen to say she couldn’t choose when one of the flames shot from the brazier until it touched the ceiling.

Pink flames roared up, and Normen shielded his face as Peggy and Mrsha flinched. Jelaqua spun.

The pink flames rose until they were like a pillar of glorious fire, burning before her eyes. Jelaqua gaped at it.

“I think you’ve found the right flame, Jelaqua.”

“Me? But I haven’t done anything glorious at all recently!”

Jelaqua protested loudly as Normen took a better lantern from the wall. The [Knight] ignored her as he filled the lantern from the brazier.

“I know better than to argue with fire. Besides, Captain. What is time? Look.”

The flames reacted to Jelaqua’s touch. When she took the lantern tentatively, the fire attached to the candles roared, and it became a blazing, pink conflagration contained within the glass. It was so bright Mrsha shielded her eyes, and her mouth was open.

“I—does it know if I deserve this? Or is it just what I believe?”

Jelaqua gazed at the lantern, and she wondered if it was reacting to what was in her heart. The Halfseekers as they charged the Hag Queen. But also every teammate she’d ever had seemed reflected in that fire.

“I don’t know. Perhaps it’s your own sense of it. But I like to imagine you can’t trick the flames with mere belief. Do you think it suits you, Jelaqua?”

The Selphid didn’t reply. She gazed into the roaring flames, and the Gold-rank Captain peered around. She lifted the lantern up and turned her head.

Garen, Ulinde, her Moore, Keilam…they were reflected in the Selphid’s eyes, shining with pink fire. Without a word, Jelaqua holstered the lantern at her side. She regarded Normen.

“If it’s just what I believe, I could burn down all of Baleros. But what’s my opinion worth, eh?”

She grinned, and behind her, glory howled skywards like a beacon. Mrsha and Normen exchanged a gaze, and then the girl handed him a card.

You should really cut some holes in the ceiling in case it does that again.

Normen eyed the scorched stones.

“Yep. Back to construction work. I need to hire Hexel.”

 

——

 

The flames of glory were still burning with Jelaqua when she returned to Pallass to get a new body. Ishkr helped her there, then vanished, and she changed bodies and then sat for a while in her dark home, staring at the flames.

Soon, she’d go and cry some more, then talk to Maughin, and they were definitely snuggling tonight to share their feelings.

But for a moment, she just sat with the lantern in her hands. It wouldn’t stop blazing.

“So why not? I deserve this, don’t I? Eh, fuck, is that from another of Mrsha’s movies as well? Parent’s tits, I’m doing it.”

Jelaqua slapped her knees and got up. She strode around, cursing and searching for the right receptacle, then sighed and went jogging into Pallass with a bag of gold. When you had enough and a Walled City, you found what you needed.

That was how the Selphid spent her evening. When she grabbed Maughin and towed him to The Wandering Inn for supper, his mother, Vhiren, missed seeing her son. Which was naturally very rude of Jelaqua as she’d been planning on a dinner with Maughin! He’d left a note via Linteca saying something had come up!

She came up to find Jelaqua, assuming they were in their home, and saw a bunch of Jelaqua and Maughin’s neighbors and passersby forming a crowd around the home. When the Dullahan [Baker] approached, she too halted.

Jelaqua Ivirith hadn’t done much in the way of home decorations. Partly because she didn’t really want the critiques from Dullahans who’d feel she was interfering with the traditional elements of Maughin’s home, but mainly because she didn’t care.

Her first and only additions to their home were a pair of large stone plinths that the Selphid had dragged up here herself. Both had big, metal basins in the center, and they sat next to the stone doorway.

Oh—and they were filled with pink flames. The fire of glory had no fuel. But it still blazed, illuminating the home with magical light. They’d burn until Jelaqua’s own vision of the meaning behind the fire faded.

So, eternal fire. It was a nice touch, Jelaqua felt. It really held the home together. But she wasn’t there to stare at the home.

She was in The Wandering Inn, tickling Mrsha despite the girl trying to claim she was too adult for tickle-fights, until the giggling began and Mrsha fought back. And Kevin was under her other arm as she gave him the noogie of two lifetimes.

The Selphid peered up as the doors opened and a giant of a man ducked in. Well, half-Giant. She raised a hand.

“Over here, you big slowpoke!”

 

 

 

 

Author’s Note:

AM DONE

AAAH IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HALF THAT AND HAVE ALL OF MOORES SECTION

I’M OUT

FUCK THIS

 

…Those are my notes from the stream. As you can tell, I may have worked hard on this.

Writing over 10,000 words in a day is not easy, even if I can do it semi-reliably. Keeping focus that long…well, I have wondered if I have ADHD given my ability to work for long stretches.

But also, it’s just telling stories I like, and I like these moments, painful as they can be. In movies, sometimes, the emotional moments feel like padding between the big events and inauthentic; the low point before the rising action if they’re done bad.

But I still want to see them each time. I would rather not a world where we skip the grief and processing of events, good and bad. Because the shorthand that creates in characters are people who exist only in their triumphs, which I think is quintessential bad writing. The only way we appreciate a triumph is by also following the characters down. It’s never when someone hits the summit that matters, it’s the climb, the slip.

I’m being philosophical. I blame low, low sleep, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I am continuing to be in the writing zone, though I’m taking today, Wednesday, off so I can recharge. Part of good writing is also lowering that wordcount to get to the point.

Working on it. Look forward to another chapter before Saturday!

—pirateaba

 

 

Christmas Comic by Duchess Ivory! (An amazing work that hurts the heartstrings! But it’s beautiful and huge props to them.)

 

Goblinhome and Charlay Animated by Moerchen!

 

Bird and Sky by Carbon!

 

Admiral Dakelos by Kazah!

 

Doll Lyonette by Karu!

 

Antinium Sprites by onionlittle!

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/littleonion

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/littleonion.art/

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/onionlittle.bsky.social

 

Hornet Nanette by Brack!

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/brack

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Brack_Giraffe

 

Innworld Map by Precisa Disso!

 

 

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