Yngvarr’s PoV - Eyrarháls
The newly adjusted wards turn the air surrounding the house into a silver mirror for a moment before they settle in place. It seems a bare gathering with many of the people I’ve known scattered to the winds or dying over the years. The few gathered to see us off again don’t even murmur in surprise.
“Well, that’s that. It took us longer to deal with everything than I had expected,” says Alfarr.
“We needed to spend the time. Who knows how long it will be before we return?”
“You didn’t handle what we’re about to do well last time,”
“I thought we’d take Amdirlain’s approach but keep working at our pace until we reach our goal,”
“Here I was thinking next time I saw the pair of you it would be for longer and yet I missed most of your stay,” Sagga says. Suddenly, there was a cloth-wrapped bundle in her hands, the smell of freshly baked bread, spices, and warmed honey cheese strong in the air. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I should look out for with the Royal Guard? They’ve made a bit of fuss at The Silver Chalice since you kicked them out of your place. Though considering the two moons of extra profits you’ve added, Ylva might forgive you.”
“What sort of fuss?” I ask, glancing up from Sagga’s gift. “Ylva has mentioned nothing to me.”
The irritation fades from Sagga’s gaze and a broad smile brightens her expression. “She’s been charging them over full price since they’ve been such a pita bunch. The ingredients for their favourite dishes became strangely harder to get almost overnight, that increases the cost you know.”
“And you know that pita isn’t actually a word, right?”
“It is in the enclave since we all know what it means,“ teases Saga. “Plus, it suits them—they’re all pains in the arse—just like your cousin.”
“What do you mean?”
“Normally I don’t speak ill of the dead, but your cousin isn’t dead. He was an oh so politely snide bastard to Rikka, Alfdis, and me, plus anyone outside the Jarl’s circle or his guards. The housekeeper quit. Why do you think your place ended up so dusty? Is it a thing with Elves that you come in two flavours, nice or pus bags?”
The words have the discomfort from our return moons ago racing up my spine and sending a shiver across my skin.
“I hope you’re counting Yngvarr as one of the nice ones, Sagga,” states Alfarr, clasping a hand to her shoulder.
The words about me fade away, and a Scion’s vision grips me with glimpses of the past: voices echo within a ruined cavernous space. A beautifully constructed summoning Gate, shaped with True Song crystals, illuminates the place, sitting within a broken building seized by the earth long ago. Yet within its crystalline arch, shaped like the space between two trees, is the black oozing foulness of a Gate opened into the Abyss. One voice speaking the Abyssal tongue digs at the edge of recognition, but the words twist the Elven lightness as whoever it was called out a name I recognise: Viper. The Succubus that stepped forth showed a tiara of white horns and an alluring smile, but only malice shone in her gaze.
With a snap, the world returns with Sagga in mid-reply,
“-I’ve met three nice Sunset Elves, but over a score of brain diseased twats.”
Alfarr catches my nervous swallow. “Are you alright?”
“Viper’s been summoned-”
“That’s impossible. She got destroyed and banished back to the Abyss,” Alfdis interjects calmly, motioning Alfarr and others that reacted to my news to wait. “We received a message warning us she was on the Material Plane back in spring but received news of her destruction a little while later. We won’t have to worry about her for a hundred years at least.”
“The vision was from the past, and the events felt moons old,” I admit, trying to catch up with Alfdis’ casual revelation. “Viper was on the Material Plane. Why wasn’t I told?”
“You were in Duskstone at the time, and it was all settled before you got back. If they were past events, why you’d get a vision now?” asks Livia, moving towards us through the gathering.
“Her summoner was Elven but speaking Abyssal and cloaked I couldn’t tell who it was.” stopping, I recognised something else I got from the fleeting moments. “It conveyed others sent the vision had ignored the warning.”
“Maybe the warning was because relatives of the deceased were involved, or because the Manes were breeding Cambion,” suggests Sagga. “But as for Viper, we were told her Priests and those holding her Demonic Pact died as well. Rana even said her symbol has faded from the Titan’s wall. Aggie’s got people searching for the Manes groups that are involved and she’s already confirmed killing a group with Cambion kids among them.”
Trying to wrap my head around all the information just blurted out to me. Cambion breeding?
“Interesting that you told the Queen’s folk to fuck off, yet the Elven Courts still obviously consider you a Scion,” Alfdis says and then giggles mischievously. “I wish there was a way you could give your former Queen the news she got overruled.”
“Still, I would have thought with Viper active Amdirlain would have told me,” I start, and Livia pulls a face before looking at me glumly.
“I told you her aura showed tension and sadness when she looked at you. You had your chance to talk to her in Duskstone, and you wasted it on chit-chat instead of addressing matters between you. Perhaps she finds it easier just to not-”
Livia cuts off, throwing her hands in the air
“Not what?”
“Not talk to you, bother you, or avoid being emotionally slapped by you. Which wording would you like to pick?”
“Slapped by me?”
The question is barely off my lips when I hiss in regret, considering the accusations thrown at her about treating life as a game.
“We should see if we can meet up with her,” Alfarr suggests, and I can only nod.
“She’s been back and forth at her Domain. I imagine they’re still helping level Archons. The question is: are you going to be personable about it or impersonal and Message her?” asks Livia.
Opening my mouth to object, I catch the look in Livia’s eyes and stop.
“You told her how you felt, and she listened to you. Did you ask her how she felt or listen? You’re both like uncles to me, but sometimes Yngvarr, you can be emotionally thick-witted about others’ feelings.”
“Go in person?” I ask Alfarr and get a thoughtful nod in response.
“Good, then I hope my family will start talking to each other again. The latest messages I’ve gotten from Móðir have been sparse. I told her I’d take care of levelling myself, and I worry now your history has her isolating herself.”
* * *
The Outlands isn’t a Plane I’ve spent a lot of time on, so it’s not surprising that the Gate opens up nowhere I recognise. A shadow-wreathed space under trees smelling of rich earth and ripe fruit has us passing through carefully in case there are any creatures about waiting in ambush. Nothing leaps out at us and closing the Gate I visualise the Valley’s ridgeline and cast Greater Teleport to move us.
The Spell places us exactly where I’d intended, but the view freezes me in place. Instead of nearly untamed wilderness, a unique settlement rose from among the trees.
On the outer edges, Celestials wearing Norse emblems move about but further in is a consistency of colours and sheer numbers I’d not expected. Instead of a few Petitioners, among the woodland valley, a massive community has grown with various Archons and Angels obvious even at this distance. The black, gold, and blue of Amdirlain’s emblem displayed on their assorted armour and attire. Though I see Humans and some Elves, I don’t recognise the most common Petitioner species. Though their strange appearance, with their vibrant blue skin and four arms, doesn’t faze the few Norse Celestials moving among them.
The nearest buildings are a pair of prominent forts being constructed further along the ridgeline—each showing their first layers of stone barely peeking above ground level. Having taken no care to maintain the woods, Dwarven crafters merely stacked the fallen trees in the cleared space around them.
“By Fenrir, this place has changed,” Alfarr says, coming up beside me where I’d stopped on the ridgeline.
“Mortals, you’re lucky the guardians aren’t nervous types.”
A rich tenor comes from behind and above us, and turning, I find a pair of female Vargr Drangijaz standing up-slope of our arrival point. Like many, they’re in their wolf-headed form, with deep brown fur and tufted ears, regarding us with amber eyes. Clad in leather breastplates, along with greaves, and armguards of a Celestial golden metal adorned with Týr’s emblem. They’ve no weapons visible, but even if they’re not stored for fast access in an Oath stone, their long claw-like nails are dangerous enough.
“Your names and business here?”
At their words I’m only a heartbeat behind copying Alfarr’s bow of respect before answering. “Yngvarr, and Alfarr, we were hoping to speak to Amdirlain.”
“Reason for seeking an audience?”
The formal tone is surprising compared to the casual attitude Amdirlain has always possessed.
“We’ve travelled with her before and had some matters I-”
“We,” Alfarr cuts in.
At the firm nod he gives, I simply continue. “We need to set right,”
“Wait here. Don’t leave this spot or we’ll assume you have ill-intentions towards Lady Amdirlain’s people.”
With that grim toned warning, they both simply vanish; their Celestial ability to Teleport no doubt whisking them away.
“When did this all happen? Why are there enough Celestials here to wage war?” asks Alfarr, quietly taking in the banners set about the valley floor.
I can only shrug helplessly as well. We’re not kept waiting long, but neither of the Vargr Drangijaz return. Instead, the new arrival has me stepping back. I lift my gaze high past a wall of armour set with Amdirlain’s emblem to meet hers—Alfarr and even Amdirlain’s true form small in comparison. The golden armour and wall of gleaming white wings offset by the deep blackness of her skin and ebony of her gaze. The sheer darkness of her skin makes the whites of her eyes pop when her gaze latches onto my own.
“Yngvarr and Alfarr, I’ll admit I’m surprised to see either of you visit. Amdirlain told me you were among those already allowed within the Domain, so I’ll make sure the Asgard commanders know your status. What can we help you with?”
“I… we came to discuss how we left things after-”
An inelegant snort from the regal appearing Solar cuts me off.
“Why is it so many good folks want to talk things out later rather than not fuck her over in the first place?”
“Might we speak with her? Livia said some things that made the-”
“I’m going to show you the situation, and then I’m going to give you some choices. Then you can talk to Torm, if need be, and decide what course you want to take.”
There’s no sense of the Solar’s Spell, a vision simply comes to life around me. When I experience Amdirlain’s distressed whisper rip around inside me, I recognise we share the moment from the Solar’s perspective and shudder back from her outrage.
“I’m going to talk to the Githerazi; they said I was welcome to come study. I need advice about the mind from someone that Hell hasn’t twisted.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The twisted pain shown on Amdirlain’s normally calm features accents the agony in her voice and gaze. The vision doesn’t fade but shifts into a discussion that rushes across my awareness. A casual planning session I’d never expected with Celestials around a table that looks rough and homemade. Amdirlain’s ‘to-do list’ discussion between them making the options being offered clear and two of them catch my attention. Finally, the vision snaps away, without the Solar releasing my gaze.
“She’s off healing from everything she’s endured, including insults from those she respected and treasured. Leave her be. I’ll let her know you wish to talk to her, but others have already caused her pain by ignoring that request.”
If her posture had possessed an ounce of anger, the flat statement might have been a death threat.
“How long has she been there?”
“Somewhere around three of your moons, I’d say. Keeping track of time systems between planes and planets is a pain. Around ninety of the monastery’s sleep cycles. Does that work? They insisted she enrol as a Novice for a stable routine, and she’s just finished this quarter’s exams.”
The thought of a bunch of Novices following Amdirlain like a mother-duck tries to usher a smile forth, but Amdirlain’s pain and the Solar’s concern in the vision are still too raw.
“No news on that Summoner who tried to pull her to the Material Plane?”
The question gets a slight smile from her, and I’m not sure why, but it’s almost like I’d passed a test.
“None as of yet. Moke found some people who knew of him but didn’t know where he was or who hired him last. He has the irregulars, as Amdirlain calls them, looking for more information,”
“Hunting for materials on the planes, helping Aggie in the Northlands, or something else?” I ask, turning towards Alfarr; it’s clear from the look in his eyes he saw the vision the Solar shared.
“It sounds like the Elven Court wanted you to know about the Northlands, and I’ve no objection helping them,” replies Alfarr. “Aggie is kind, and she helped a lot of folks. It will be good to have her back if she’s looking into that sort of trouble.”
“We’ll go there then,” I reply, glancing at the Solar. “Would you be able to tell us where she is at present?”
“She was stopping at various places, but last I heard she was on the Kingdom of Darius’ eastern edge.”
“Thank you. I’ll contact her and organise where to meet. We’ve travelled in the Northlands. You are right to judge me harshly. I focused on what I knew and felt and didn’t stop to listen. I might not have been comfortable with the how, but she still helped us grow stronger.”
She gives a polite nod, but it doesn’t escape my notice that she doesn’t offer us any name before I open the Gate back to the Material Plane.
Amdirlain’s PoV - Limbo - Monastery of Will’s Hand
The drifting strands of energy existed in a strange in-between state, nestled among the living spirit of the Ki, the Psi reserves, and angled off from her Mind Palace. The discovery had been an accident, but her ability to return had grown steadily more reliable after finding it the first time. Resting among them gave the same comfort her Domain possessed, the strands feeling like those that had existed on the boundary between its aura and the Petitioners’ Souls.
The drifting strands invoked an image of relaxing in a comfortable field of long grass with a picnic blanket beneath her and a warm spring sky overhead, she somehow knew it stretched out in all directions. Laying among it she could hear voices softly speaking, often too indistinct to make out, but sometimes prayers or cries reached her from far away. Yet even when they were audible, they remained too indistinct to understand completely what had prompted them—only their nature was clear.
Standing on the blanket’s edge had tempted her to plunge in among the grass to find those in need. Yet the exposed and raw wounds that she’d found under the obsidian she’d so far removed stayed her hand. Each time she heard more snippets, she restricted herself to messaging Ebusuku with what information she could. Her constant reply was to confirm she’d continue to look into them only as long as Amdirlain didn’t ask about what she found until fully healed.
“Know that I don’t understand you,” Gemiya said, plumping down next to Amdirlain.
The sense of the surrounding field wavered but didn’t disappear the way it had done in the past. Slowly opening her eyes to regard Gemiya the field and Limbo mixed around her.
“Maybe because I’m incomprehensible?”
“Know it’s obvious you don’t need any of the Mana Theory classes since you are rarely there, but got the highest marks.”
“I got a question wrong,” corrected Amdirlain with a smirk. “I’m only rarely there because it conflicts with my healing sessions.”
The look Gemiya fixed on her was one of flat disbelief. “Why do I think it’s more likely our knowledge is wrong? Why did you answer nine to the number of Tier 4 Affinities when all tiers are multiples of 4?”
“What I want to know is why the psi-crystal reported you as a level 1 Squirrel yesterday?” enquired Nomein.
Amdirlain secured the bowl Nomein floated to her in her own mental grasp and set it down in front of herself and waited for the others to be served. “That’s because I’m nuts, and you were all so excited in the attunement class it had me climbing a tree.”
“How do you mask yourself from the crystal?” persisted Nomein.
Rather than answer, Amdirlain just simply mimed locking her mouth and throwing away the key.
Lezekus, having finished serving her duty table, snorted at Nomein even as she took her seat. “Since when has Amdirlain ever answered a question before she was ready?”
“Like you and who your emblem belongs to?” asked Zenya.
“Know that I shall tell you when I’m ready to answer the question. Know that worship of her… them was my choice,” replied Lezekus, but blushed as she corrected herself. The first slip in months of the neutral answer prompting the others to question her further, before Lezekus started busily eating breakfast.
“Know we should visit the library on a rest day to read up on the Goddesses,” teased Nomein.
The thin porcelain spoon lifted from Amdirlain’s bowl, the smooth texture of the handle clear in her mental fingers.
“Know you never told us what image you ended up using to get Far Hand working,” noted Gemiya.
“I’m holding a baby’s hand. They grip your finger so tightly but they’re so tiny I was always worried about hurting them getting free,”
“That was it?” Gemiya said, in surprise. “Your key was a baby’s fingers?”
“Why so surprised?”
“Know that you don’t seem like the motherly type,” observed Gemiya
Giving Gemiya a shrug, Amdirlain’s spoon didn’t even waver in mid-air, as she focused on eating. The banter continued until they arrived in the training hall and found that, along with Master Liranë, Master Jarithä was present with guests. Among a group of six Githzérai, a human with a hawk-like profile seized Amdirlain’s attention, but catching his gaze, she immediately realised he was far too kind to be Farhad. Though from the shape of his face, the black hair, dusky complexion, and the style of attire, he looked closely enough related to be kin.
[Name: Cyrus
Species: Immortal (Transformed from Human)
Class: Bodhisattva / Immortal Bodhisattva / Exalted Immortal / Immortal White Guard
Level: 101 / 102 / 101 / 101 / 101
Health: 449,143
Defense: 22,905
Ki: 110,026
Magic: 3,746
Mana: 9,661,372
Melee Attack Power: 11,902
Combat Skills: Devouring Mist [G](423), Affinities: All - Various Spell Lists
Details: Former Grand Master of the Western Marches, currently serving as a delegate for the Monastery of the Western Steppes.]
The details came with a razor-edged spike stabbing through her brain when the strength of his presence crushed against her.
[Analysis [S] (18->20)
Pain Tolerance [Ad] (31->32)]
What the fuck?
[Immortal Bodhisattva: This Tier 6 Prestige Class is only obtainable after having achieved Master Proficiency in Immortal Spirit. It requires combining Sora Master and an advanced Wizard base Class at level eighty and causes their species type to transform into Immortal.]
[Exalted Immortal: This Tier 7 Prestige Class is only obtainable after having achieved a Tier 6 Immortal Prestige Class. It requires combining Sora Master and an advanced caster base class at level ninety.]
[Immortal White Guard: This advanced base Class is only available to Monks who have gained rank among the White Tiger’s Celestial guards.]
Cyrus’ gaze focused on Amdirlain with an uncomfortable intensity before he relaxed and turned to Master Jarithä. “This ‘Novice’ is the source of your impossibility, Master Jarithä?”
“Know Novice Amdirlain assisted all these Novices, along with some others, to gain access to the Ki,” replied Jarithä.
“You mentioned they had a lesson scheduled for now, but might I talk with Novice Amdirlain?” enquired Cyrus, his tone and posture remaining polite and unconcerned. “Perhaps the rest of the delegation could observe the lesson, to begin co-ordinating the Novices’ training.”
“Know that Novice Amdirlain is a member of our order and in our care. Know that I would insist on being present unless she objects,” stated Jarithä.
“I have no issue with you being present. It is good to be protective of all within one’s care, regardless of their stature,” Cyrus said.
When Amdirlain nodded, Cyrus made a broad gesture motioning Master Jarithä to lead the way. As the Masters left, Amdirlain waited a moment to let them walk ahead of her, but Master Cyrus stopped and set a hand upon her arm. The energy in his slightest touch made her arm pulse with a pain that radiated up to her shoulder and across her chest. At first, she barely held onto her Mantle’s presence, but as the purity in his touch washed across her the excess faded into the field.
“Please walk beside me, Novice Amdirlain. I’m not a member of your order after all.”
“Should not an esteemed guest take precedence?” asked Amdirlain, wanting to keep well back from the Master.
“Please, I insist. The Jade Emperor instructed me to make this trip, so I’m looking forward to getting to know you,” replied Cyrus. When he released her arm, Amdirlain stepped quickly forward, giving him plenty of space to move through the doorway.
The door closed behind them with Master Liranë giving directions for the others to take their positions.
“You’re in service to the Emperor of the West though, aren’t you?”
I hope I got that rank right. It’s been a while since I read any of the Chinese mythology that I think his details are referencing.
Cyrus gave her another assessing look but fortunately, with his hand no longer touching her arm, the pain had died away; the pressure of his gaze was fierce enough. “The Four Winds serve the Jade Emperor and—rarely—I have the honour of being among those attending the Jade Court. I wasn’t even aware of the discussion Master Jarithä was having with one of the Githzérai orders we’ve been guiding when I received his instructions.”
“I don’t know why such an august personage would have an interest in me.”
“There is a Mana Affinity that is rarely known among Mortals. It is called Jade Court Mana, but contains the aspects of the Tao. Enlightened Sages possess it, and those in religious service to Shen associated with the Jade Court. It was quite surprising when echoes of that Mana started occurring repeatedly in places no member of the Jade Court would venture.”
“Oh,” Amdirlain stated and cut off the rest of the sentence.
Fuck!
[Diplomacy [B](12->13)]
“The Emperor himself instructed me to travel to the monastery, assist their travellers, and meet with the one to whom they led me. Neither the delegation’s existence nor its purpose was I aware of until I spoke to its members,” explained Cyrus. “The Emperor sees much more than he explains, and often his orders have multiple purposes. I’m curious though, how a Fallen Celestial—a western Shen—not only possesses Jade Court Mana but has the Ki that I sense floating around inside you.”
“It’s a long story.”
“Since we are both Immortal in varying fashions, I believe we have time.”
“Some of it I’d prefer not to share, but I can explain how I ended up with Ki, and learnt the Mana Affinity,” offered Amdirlain.
“All beings have their secrets. I was told to come along and assist—not hunt you down,” reassured Cyrus. “However, now I need to determine exactly what purpose my presence here aids.”
The rest of the walk back to Jarithä’s study passed in silence that Cyrus seemed content to let remain.
Declining the offer of tea, Cyrus looked between them, and as Amdirlain started, he motioned for her to wait. “Before you begin, I’ve never met one of your species. Would you explain the look of recognition you possessed when you first saw me?”
“I spent some time training with a Monk who looks related to you, Master Cyrus. His name is Farhad, and he told me the rest of the Monks from his order perished, leading refugees to safety from an assault by Dragons.”
“Perished, interesting. The order and the communities it was protecting left the original world we inhabited because of a conflict between western Dragons. I thought I ensured we evacuated all worthy individuals in our care through the heavenly gates. I will admit the name is familiar, but I’m aware of dozens of relatives, both in and out of our monasteries over the centuries with that name,” said Cyrus. “But we can discuss that afterwards if your tale doesn’t touch upon it.”
All worthy individuals? Guess they disliked Farhad’s attitude a bit more than his tale suggested.
Even her tale’s cliff notes took them well until dinner, with Master Jarithä skipping lunch and delegating tasks to listen. Master Cyrus didn’t interrupt until she reached changing from a Succubus to a Fallen, avoiding all mention of becoming a Power along the way.
“Among the Jade Court, many Shen had to journey along something similar to this redemption path. Zheng Wu and his seven generals, to name a few; all had to find enlightenment again after falling from their Way before we even came here. I’ll stay and help with your studies. Perhaps together, we can find a way for you to learn from your past lives and reach enlightenment.”
“I’m not sure about those memories,” admitted Amdirlain, shifting uncomfortably on the seat.
“We must face our fears to overcome them. You mentioned Livia has access to her past lives. Does it change the child you care for?”
Amdirlain smiled at the thought of Livia’s cheery disposition and the enjoyment she took in life. “Sometimes she seems a little too wise, but she is still her own person.”
“Wisdom comes from experience, but we learn every lesson in life through the filter of who we are,” asserted Cyrus. “While we might change as a person afterwards, our foundation is still that individual. I remember your Master Farhad now. He possessed only one Prestige Class and sought to challenge one of the inner circle instead of properly gaining access to the inner secrets. They taught him a lesson and sent him away. Much wasted potential since he didn’t seek proper guidance from the Heavens.”
“He sought to challenge the Grand Master. Was that you?”
“No, I had relinquished that position before the Titan even invited the Jade Emperor here. I know what you seek to avoid mentioning. Does Master Jarithä not know your full nature?”
At the question, Jarithä fixed Cyrus with an unamused look and received a broad grin back.
“Know that I do not seek to learn more except what Novice Amdirlain wishes to share. Know that awareness she is a Fallen seeking to redeem herself is enough. Will you share more of what happened? When did you find our monastery in your travels?”
Aware that the time for the evening meal was fast approaching, Amdirlain hesitated in consideration before she spoke.
“I will when time permits. I missed my classes today, but Master Elliyna will not be pleased if I miss my time with her. Would you tell me more about how the Jade Court came to be here? I thought the Human Gods had begged for sanctuary.”
“That is an even longer tale than your own. In summary, the time of the Yomi King was in ascent where we came from, and the Jade Emperor agreed to the Titan’s request. Humanity’s descent into evil was weakening his influence. It allowed him to step aside for the Yomi King to take the Heavenly throne without casting the earthly realm into a destructive war. It would have left little but ash because of horrible weapons invented by Mortals after I became Immortal; weapons that allowed Humans to destroy millions in an instant. While the cycle of life continues, there is hope for him to regain influence, as it is only an aspect of himself and the Four Winds within the Titan’s creation.”
“And the other Human Gods?”
“The western Powers needed sanctuary, but the Jade Emperor would not have perished in our original realm—indeed, has not. When is your next training?”
“Master Liranë provides me additional training after my evening sessions with Master Elliyna,” admitted Amdirlain, and noted the spark of amusement in Jarithä’s eyes and tried to change the subject. “I would have thought someone in existence so long would have higher levels.”
“Whatever power or levels you believe I possess is mostly what this reality translated from my prior state of existence. I do not seek the advancement of mere physical power; instead, I seek to advance my Soul. Perhaps one day I might progress from merely Immortal to full Shen, but in the meantime, I do my best to follow my Dao.”
“I look forward to your guidance in the Martial Arts all the same-” said Amdirlain and wondered how she could bend the rules to get a match with Cyrus.
Whatever gave her away; it was clear she’d let something slip at Jarithä’s interjection. “Know that Novice Amdirlain may not conduct exchanges of pointers; only training is allowed.”
Cyrus glanced between the two of them with a suspicious look before grinning again.
“Know I shall endeavour to keep that in mind when I observe her training and consider how her studies might progress.”