A voice seemingly from nowhere, yet exceedingly close calls out, “It’s you again. It must be years since the last time. Did you catch up with Santiago?”

I furrow my brow. The voice is recognizable, but I don’t know anyone from this town beyond the priest and his boyfriend. Hm, except that lurker in the wilderness. I glance about, but whomever is speaking is quick enough to avoid my gaze. Perhaps they’ve gotten more skilled in the intervening years since our last encounter.

Though they’ve gotten better at hiding, they’re still less skilled in stealth than I am. I finally spot them, and the difference is readily apparent. They’re garbed more appropriately for the wilds. And, oddly enough, lacking almost any hint of the ample breasts that I recall them trying to hide previously. Good for them I suppose.

I respond, “As I do when a job requires I travel far and wide. Yes. It seems you were able to avail yourself of at least some part of town in the last few years yourself.”

Their demeanor suddenly shifts to one of shyness rather than stealth. They seek to hide their embarrassment, “Only, only thanks to your prodding. Only a few times. So, um, thank you.”

I shrug one shoulder, waving off the thanks as I turn to leave.

They call out, “Wait, if you don’t mind, please, a moment. You don’t owe me it, but you know how bored and curious I am. I. No, I’m sorry, never mind. Thank you is all.”

I raise an eyebrow. This one’s demeanor is odd to the extreme. Odder still, when they aren’t speaking, not even my sharp hearing picks up their heartbeat or breath. Perhaps they have become as skilled as me, or even more so, if they’re able to mask basic functions to such a degree. I pause a few moments more while I puzzle out their curious nature. Did I sense their breathing or heartbeat last time? I can’t recall. It was easy enough to notice their approach by their lack of true stealth. Motion alone provided enough sound. Maybe I’ll ask Tiago about it next time I’m in The Brook.

Ugh, I can imagine exactly how it will go. I’ll be intending to say there’s a woman at the edge of town, and as soon as I get out the word woman, Tiago will interrupt. He’ll jibe and joke until he’s lost memory of what even started the japery. Especially since I’ve never been with a woman or man in all my fifty or sixty years. Perhaps I should just say person. This person seems to not wish to be known as a woman anyway, or at least not judged for their womanly assets. I can at least relate to part of that, or lack thereof.

Speaking of such topics, they hesitantly ask, “Sir, or, um, miss. You don’t intend to hurt anyone in The Brook, do you? I’ve gotten a bit better at sensing things, and there is a murky air about you. One of pain and violence.”

I quell the momentary fury that trembles beneath my surface. Have I been outed as an assassin? Tiago would know not to trust that information with anyone untrustworthy, or who would do me harm. Hell, from his own statements, The Brook might want me on payroll just in case something needs slaying. That’s not the only thing that raises my ire though.

I scowl as I respond, “I’m neither, and, not that I owe it to you, but no, I don’t.” I spin on my heel and begin to march swiftly away.

There is a sad air that persists, following me for a vast distance. The feeling of being observed lasts for far too long. So, I sidle up alongside a concave tree within its leeward side. Drawing my dagger, I lay in wait. The feeling lingers, but no one approaches my striking zone near my hidden ambush.

The voice suddenly calls out from the other side of the tree, “I’m, I’m sorry. I’m glad is all. I guess we have some things in common. Thank you for showing me that, and giving me a push that I needed. I won’t bother you again when you enter or leave The Brook.”

I remain in waiting for several moments more, still ready to strike, not letting down my guard. It’s not long though until the presence recedes, and I no longer feel as if I’m being observed. I’m not entirely happy with how that interaction went down, but I’m glad I didn’t need to drop a body on Aasimovian soil.

I’m going to regret doing this. I softly whistle a series of tweets in a minor key. One of the tricks I was taught in The Heart. Sure enough, a small bird whose feathers have adapted to our abysmal world shows up in mere moments, landing on my outstretched fingertip. I hesitate. They don’t deserve to know, and their own feelings are their own mess to deal with. Still, I regret my moody outburst, so I withdraw a scrap of parchment.

I quickly scribble, “Sorry, same time next year.” I roll the tiny note tightly, then tie it loosely about the bird’s ankle. Once I’m assured it won’t just drop away, I whistle a few more notes. When I’m sure the animal gets the gist, I whisper what I want it to seek out, and that I’m grateful for its help. The Heart wants me to be kind and grateful, so I strive to be so in regards to the wilderness and its creatures.

I sigh as I send the bird on its way. I guess I’ll have to come visit Tiago next year around now whether I was going to or not. I don’t relish the idea of any social interaction, but I’ll try to alleviate my own conscience if they show up at least. Who knows, maybe this mysterious outlander won’t even be alive the next time I come around.

Teuila prods me as I awaken, grinning as happily as ever she states, “Have good dreams my Dink? You were kinda, well, definitely talking about, groaning, and maybe moaning Dawn’s name there for a while. Thought you might just be talking about the time, until, well, yeah.”

I flush with embarrassment, not this again, “Te, please don’t joke about that around Dawn, it seems like it makes them really really uncomfortable. I don’t mind you teasing me and making me uncomfortable, but, please?”

Teuila pouts, “I swear, I’m not running a bit. You really did, that’s why Dawn is hanging over the edge of the dinghy right now.”

My eyes flash wide as I cry out, “They’re what?! Are they okay?! Which edge!?” I struggle to leap out of Teuila’s embrace to go find and save Dawn. Barely realizing that we’ve already set sail, and I wasn’t even conscious to meet Captain Tim aboard the Drake.

Teuila shushes me and pulls me back down against her torso, “Shh, it’s okay my Dink, they just, they were getting really uncomfortable with your, well, moans I guess. There’s nowhere else really private on the dinghy, and the captain doesn’t want anyone in the way on the fishing boat’s deck, so, well, yeah.”

I groan, “Ugh I must seem like some awful perverted creep. Ugh, bluh. Please just gag me next time I start talking in my sleep?”

Teuila grins and slugs me playfully, “No promises Dink. I kinda like hearing what comes out of your mouth in the middle of the night.”

I roll my eyes and faux-sigh with frustration. I can’t help laughing. She’s so mean sometimes. There’s a polite cough from behind me and I almost want to weep. Crap, how much did Dawn here? Which part did they walk in on? If they got here at the word gag, or when Teuila started talking after Dink. Ugh.

I nervously glance towards Dawn, trying to hide the tears in my eyes. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. They avoid my gaze, so I look away. I start to apologize, “I’m, I’m really sorry, it’s not —“

Dawn interrupts me, “Hey, whatever, dreams are just dreams, right, ya know? Might weird me out, but it’s none of my business what your subconscious is doing.”

I flush with embarrassment so hard that I begin to pass back out in Teuila’s arms as my ears steam. Crap, I, I need. To say. That wasn’t it. Frick. Hello again dreamland.

Taylynn has been needling me to take up a mercenary job with her. She knows I’m between leads at the moment, still no closer to the emperor, and she does have me wrapped around her little finger. Still. I’d prefer to continue my solo work for Jarvis and the people of the Imperium. It has expanded its borders yet again during my years seeking out its ruler. It’s like the bastard can somehow control his lieutenants without ever seeing or speaking with them, or meeting with them, or sending any sort of carrier message. It’s uncanny.

I relent, “Fine ‘Lynn, err, I mean Tay. I know, I know, you don’t want to be called ‘Lynn. Sorry. I was distracted by thought.”

Her grimace becomes a grin as she drapes her arms over my shoulders, resting her nose upon mine. She coyly responds, “Hm, I suppose I forgive you then. What sort of thought so distracts you?”

I hem and haw on whether or not to fill Taylynn in on my internal monologue. She has known me for many years at this point, I suppose it’s fair. I answer, “I’m prone to listening to and reacting to my own subvocalized internal monologue. Sometimes it feels like I get a lot of thinking done in a short time, other times even if it feels that way, it often turns out I’d been spacing out for a long period.”

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Taylynn chuckles softly as she nips the corner of my lips, working her way towards my ear again. What is it with her and my ear? Not that I mind altogether that much mind you.

She whisperedly asks, her lips and tongue tickling the edges of my ear, “Okay then, give me an example, what were the last few lines of your internal monologue?”

Ugh, she would ask that. Still, I already spilled, may as well tell her, “As you were moving, I said to myself, ‘Taylynn chuckles softly as she nips the corner of my lips, working her way towards my ear again. What is it with her and my ear? Not that I mind altogether that much mind you. She whisperedly asks…’ And there, you’re caught up, happy?”

Taylynn shoves off of me, laughing, knocking me back and off-balance slightly. She grips her belly as she doubles over in mirth. I didn’t think it was that funny. I might be slightly odd in my own head, but she’s known my oddities for years.

Through gasping for breath between laughs, she requests, “Go on, go on, tell me another one, I beg you, hahaha.”

I frown as I roll my eyes and do as she asks, “This is the last one then. I wasn’t doing this for your laughter. You asked a question, I gave an honest answer. Anyway, after I answered last time, my internals said, ‘Taylynn shoves off of me, laughing, knocking me back and off-balance slightly. She grips her belly as she doubles over in mirth. I didn’t think it was that funny. I might be slightly odd in my own head, but she’s known my oddities for years.’ Then I talked about you gasping for breaths between laughs. There, done, no more of that.”

Taylynn takes a few more moments of laughter to herself as she wipes a tear from her eyes. She begins to pout, “Awe, I enjoyed knowing I’m at the center of your thoughts. So, Love, am I there frequently?”

I try to wear a scowl in answer, yet I can’t help but to slowly smile. She is. She is and she knows it. I curse, “Damn you, yes, you’re a distracting presence amidst my mind nearly always. And, huff, I love you regardless, though it will likely get me killed soon enough.”

She wears a bittersweet smile as she responds, “I’d prefer to not be damned, I like the idea of the next life. Like you said, if we’re lucky, earlier in both of our lives. Right?” I blush as she recalls my answer to her question about a life after this one. She continues, “Also, I’m sorry in advance if thinking of this,” she makes an exaggerated hourglass figure with her hands, demonstrating her curves, “gets you killed some day.”

I fight back a laugh and end up snorting hard for my troubles. She grabs the nearest object, thankfully a pillow at this point, and throws it at me as I try to backpedal my laugh, “Hah, wait, your curves are wonderful. Oof, stop with the bedding. It wasn’t about your curves or your form, it was how animated you were about oof, and how nonchalant you were about my upcoming demise.”

She takes pause as she reaches out a hand for mine. She draws me close, silently sitting frozen on the bed in front of me, her eyes downcast. She finally states, “I’m, I’m not. I’d be heartbroken if you died Aces. I might not be able to express myself in the ways I’d like to sometimes, but I’m not nonchalant about it. I had to add humor to it because I can’t bear the thought. You’re nearly a century in age, and still running and riding between countries, killing on a lark as needed against corrupt nobles and military. What even are you?”

I shrug, “I’m human far as I can tell, just like everyone else.”

Taylynn frowns as she looks up at me, “Please, take this job with me, let me show you. They aren’t all human anymore, maybe never were. The orc tribes are some of the last free peoples that the Imperium hasn’t brought under thumb. They have magic Aces, real, honest to gods magic. If that doesn’t convince you, I don’t know what will. Please?”

She casts her eyes up to meet mine at their largest and wettest, striking my heart like a dagger. I answer, “We ah, we got off topic, but I’d already said fine. So, well, yes. Not that I believe they’re anything other than human, but perhaps there is some sort of magic here or there. I’ve witnessed a few things that are hard to explain.”

She grumbles, “I gave you a friggin’ magic dagger after our first, ahem, and you still, grr.”

I chuckle with chagrin as my hand flits down to Taylynn’s dagger. It has been especially good to me as far as weapons are concerned. Mine was only slightly dinged and nicked over fifty years of use, okay it was rather jagged by the time I met Taylynn. But hers doesn’t show even the faintest of marring in all the years I’ve used it already.

I rub my head abashedly, “Right, yes, anyway, so, this job. Out west you say?”

Her beautiful smile is answer enough, yet she says, “Yes, and, I want us to just take my horse.”

I raise an eyebrow as I query, “What, why?”

She teases, waggling her eyebrows, having set me up, she lands her punchline, “You really need a reason to ride tightly up against my backside for weeks upon weeks?”

Hm, who? What? Pflechk, bleh, something wet splashing about. Ugh, I swallowed some of it. Right, right, mildly acidic rain. No, wait, boat, giant lake, mildly acidified surface water of the lake. Teuila is laughing and wiping a tear of mirth from her eyes, even Dawn is snickering nearby. What’s so funny?

When she notices I’m awake, Teuila hugs me tightly as she explains, “Dink, Love, that’s the most lucid I’ve ever heard you in your sleep. It sounds like, or sounded like, even more, I don’t know, detailed, than what you supposedly used to tell Lil. Heck, those two were really, really smitten for each other. Like, wow.”

I raise an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between Te and Dawn. Dawn nods affirmatively. Te continues, “It was Aces and Taylynn, I think. Apparently Aces didn’t believe in magic. I mean, come on, how can you not? What a dink, eh? Anyway, goober was going to keep working on stuff in the Imperium, but —“

Dawn interrupts, “Wait, that’s right, the dream sounded like they didn’t believe in magic, wait, describe this Aces character? Were they a bit lanky, skulky, always cloaked, wore a dagger on the hip with a fancy bone sheathe? Wait, kind of like that one. How did I not notice that before?”

Teuila and I exchange a surprised glance before I answer, “That, well, yes, that sounds like Aces. A bit vague of a description, but, um. From what I remember about their reflection in the horse-trough, gosh that was so long ago. They uh, were fairly androgynous, hair could have been red maybe, but there was no light, so color was hard to distinguish. They were an assassin, so yeah, they probably skulked a lot.”

Dawn grumbles, “The little shid, got to know them over most of the last half century, and never even got a name. Next time I see Aces, I’m going to chew them out something fierce. They were looking kinda spooked on their way through town a week or two ago now though. Something must be up. Assassin you say? That certainly does explain some things. We only spoke a few minutes at a time, about once every year or so, but still.”

My heart breaks as Dawn reminisces as if they’re going to have Aces come for another visit at their usual yearly rendezvous. I gulp as I state, “Dawn, Dawn this is Aces’ dagger. An assassin’s dagger. I, I mean. You must know what that means, right? They went to Noirdivinhoz.”

Dawn furrows their brow and scowls at me, “Shut your mouth. The codger doesn’t age for decades, and could out-sneak me most days. They were practically as invincible as the pair of you. But, but why do you have that dagger then? Come off it, what’s really going on?”

My pout sinks into a sorrowful frown full of despair. Dawn doesn’t even realize they’ve lost a friend. This is the exact reason I want to get this dagger back to Taylynn and Selunie as soon as possible. Teuila defends me whilst I can’t find my voice through the building tears.

Te commands, “Hey, Rej doesn’t lie, and doesn’t joke about serious things like this. That aint cool Dawny. They’re trying to break it to you gently. Get it? Like, like, that’s what our quest is with this dagger. We’re bringing it back to the person who gave it to Aces. They deserve to know.”

Dawn frowns. Still in denial they ask, “Deserve to know what? And while we’re at it, how is Rej there having dreams in the first person view of an old friend anyway? I thought it was just another sex dream or something. Not, not like a friend’s memory. That’s messed up.”

My mortified expression runs rampant across my face while my blush evaporates the lake’s constant spray that’s splashed about over the edge of the dinghy. Defensively I retort, “It, it wasn’t, neither was a sex dream, okay? Apparently when I sleep, I see other people’s memories from Rayileklia, okay? Sometimes, just sometimes I guess I recite them out loud while having them, or something. I’m sorry Dawn, we found Aces’ body in Noirdivinhoz, and I already knew Aces from dreams all the way back on our world. I knew this dagger belonged to Taylynn. She loaned it as a sort of permanent gift to Aces. We’re on a quest to get home overall, in general, but we have a pit stop, a side quest to take care of. Aces’ friends, and loved ones, deserve to know they’re gone.”

Dawn oscillates between denial and anger, “That, no, you’re, you’re lying! They, they could find me. They knew me. They could outhide my senses if they really wanted to. They didn’t age! They can’t, they can’t die. Not there, especially not there. No one should die there. No one knows—. Chkglp. It, it’s not fair! You, you’re mistaken, that’s it. Sure, Boss says you’re not a liar, so, so you, you’re just seeing things. Remember what the Saint said? You, you need more —.”

I glare at Dawn, daring them to finish spilling that before I’ve had a chance to tell Teuila myself. I was going to do it after our drinking excursion. Dawn clams up, thankfully. Teuila looks shocked at our newfound friend’s attitude, but grief is a painful experience. We both know this deeply, truly.

Before I end up forgetting again, and before Teuila can get suspicious, I broach the subject, “Te? Tiago and George were walking past the alleyway I was in before we went drinking, while you were shopping. I wanted to tell you when my headache calmed down, and was hoping the booze would get me there. It didn’t, obviously.”

Teuila asks, “Tell me love?”

Is she getting more used to the word? Or is it just because it’s a blanket nickname in the accent she’s using? Oh, right, respond, “Tiago and George, they, um, remember how I said Kozzurth’s heart shrunk, like, a lot? I thought it was just the cold, or maybe it tried to fuel a spell that would open a portal to Can’Z’aas, like I asked. George apparently showed Tiago a book that seemed more fairytale than fact, but the book said something about people absorbing dragon hearts, maybe giving them vitality or something.”

Teuila scratches her forehead and presses me, “So, like, you’re supercharged? But why are you passing out all the time?”

I shake my head, “I, um. Tiago thinks I have something, he called it a persistent malady, but didn’t say what kind. He, he, well, he thought the dragon’s heart is the only thing keeping me alive right now. I, I mean, maybe because I’d have been dead several times without Lil’s bond, and Rayileklia has screwed over or severed a lot of our magics, maybe all that’s catching up with me? Tiago thinks I need two more dragon hearts to, to, well.”

Teuila frowns and orders, “To what? Spit it out.”

I sigh sadly, “To survive the season, the year at most.”

Dawn’s been silent this whole time, but they nod when Teuila gazes around in shock. Teuila balls up her fists, digging her nails into her palms so hard that she bleeds polygons. Her tears drop hotly upon my face from her position as my headrest. Suddenly she steels her gaze.

She proclaims, “Then, then I’ll just, I’ll go Valkyrie, I’ll go a hundred plus a hundred plus I don’t know, ultra percent, and scour every mountain, every cave, every, every I don’t know, fantasy dragon lair possible place. Or, or go to that spine of the world place, and I’ll rip out two fresh hearts for you Dink. Easy as pie.”