Abashedly, Ixeyla reaches up to rub the back of her skull, casting her glance about while responding to Leeza, “Hey, Princess, look, about, about the thing. I’m sorry, again. I know that doesn’t make it right, but I really am so sorry.”
Her gaze seemingly fixed in the distance, Leezahna nods, less in response to Ixeyla, more in order to psyche herself up to answer, “It, it wasn’t right, you’re right, but, but I did overreact when you came to apologize. I’m sorry, um, about that, overreacting. Are we… still friends?”
Loosing a huge sigh of relief, Ixeyla nearly doubles over comically as she agrees, “Yes, of course, totally. Thank you, for uh, still wanting to be friends.” There’s the briefest pause before her eyebrows quirk up as she asks, “What was that about an escort?”
Gulping, with her eyes darting about in order to avoid everyone’s gazes, Leezahna mumbles, “My, um, mother, and baby sister could, could evacuate with you, in advance. If, if I told her your title was ambassador, she wouldn’t treat you like gutter trash.” Leeza cringes momentarily before apologizing for insinuating Ixeyla is or was gutter trash before being offered a position as an ambassador, “Sorry.”
Lil’s hackles raise slightly, but he only frumps grumpily, and frowns at Leezahna, not making a big issue of Leeza’s implication. I’m grateful to him for extending tolerance to Leezahna as she betters herself. Her coming forward to offer is already apparently nerve-wracking enough. I admit, it does serve several purposes that benefit all of us. One, the two young-adult Reds get an ancient Green as an escort. Two, Leeza gets to know that her mother and little sister are safe, far from the battles and the war itself, even if we temporarily halt or abandon the evacuation project.
I worry only slightly for the social implications and possible political complications of sending someone as haughty as Leeza’s mother to Jeegoobotstan. I suppose I could personally reinforce the fact that she has no authority there, either now, or when relations are set up with the scrying sensors. Glancing towards Leeza, she’s blushing furiously, still avoiding meeting anyone’s gazes. I make certain all my mental walls are up momentarily.
Breathing in the silence of the non, the space between spaces, the moment between moments, I try to pick apart any missing puzzle pieces that might affect the outcome of sending Ixey and Zayzi away with Leeza’s mother and sister. I know that recently I heard something that implied Ixey was drunkenly macking on, possibly making out with Leeza, and Leeza commenting on her own disinterest in women afterwards, as a drunken Ixey was reunited with Lil. Ixeyla must have apologized recently, something I think she implied she’d be doing as soon as possible.
During that apology, things must have gotten heated for one reason or another. Leeza feels now that she overreacted in the moment. It seems like the pair have patched things up for the most part. Leeza wouldn’t do anything that risks or hurts her mother for certain. I’m also somewhat certain Leeza wouldn’t intentionally hurt Ixeyla ever again, from this point forward. I think Ixey is her first real friend. Do I trust Leezahna’s mother? Not in the slightest. Do I trust Leezahna, and Ixeyla? To the ends of Rayileklia, each of them, at this point.
In the end, my opinion on the assignment of a guide or guard or escort doesn’t really matter. The only thing that matters is that Ixeyla and Xayla safely get to Jeegoobotstan. Hopefully in a manner that they feel safe and comfortable with. Their choice of an escort, or none, is based on their own perceived needs. Maybe Ixey will consider it a favor, bringing Leeza’s mother along. Who knows? At this point, I think the only thing I have left to do in this situation is give my blessings and well-wishes to the twin Reds, after handing off the enchanted mirrors, and instructions.
Slipping back into the flow of time, I drink in reality at its usual pace, something that’s a bit novel for me when I think about it for more than a moment. How many millennia, or eons have I spent with time not flowing in a standard manner? I don’t even want to try to recall it all, let alone categorize standard versus non. Plus, what even counts as the time spent between moments? The amount of time I think I vaguely perceived passing while in paused time, or just the fractions of a second that actually passed? Bluh, let’s not go into it Reggie. Right, right.
Flashing Ixeyla and Xayla a warm smile, I bring the enchanted mirrors over to them, half of the sets of pairs that I’ve set up, keeping their paired partners here in Solace. Just so that there’s no chance of a miscommunication issue, I write a small note for them to indicate whom to see and whom to hand mirrors off to. I even label the mirrors for those I intend to receive them. This way the mirrors that I’ve labeled for Tiktik, Harriet, and Jarrah, here in Solace, will communicate solely with the scrying sensors on the mirrors going to their intended recipients.
I’ve also got instructions and a mirror for Driezyln, Qlaxi’s nephew or niece or something like that. Possibly only figuratively. I’m still not sure if it was biological, or if it was a quaint affectation to call Qlaxianna auntie and the other dragons cousins. My eyes tear up momentarily remembering Qlaxianna’s death—no, my slaying of her—and the moments surrounding it. I need to take ownership of my brutality and the courses of action I’ve taken. Or at least their consequences. I can’t afford to dwell on it now though. I have so many plans in motion, and still need to sleep sometime.
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I sort of hope that the time I sleep is the travel-time for Ixey and Zayzi to reach Jeegoobotstan. I’d like to be awake when they arrive, firstly, in order to know if they arrive safely, secondly to get ahold of Tiktik. I’m not entirely certain if Tiktik will have an exit from her ‘Twixt in Jeegoobotstan to The Tear in The Courts of the Fey’s Wilds. I’m hoping it does, which is why I’m sending a mirror for her to hand off to Jarrah Bettergrove. If not, it’s no big loss if she decides to hand it off to someone else in the refugee camp like Elder, or Tiago, or George, or just keep it for herself to talk to Bitty from two angles at once.
Gazing over at Littlebit, she cheerily, cheekily smiles my way. After a moment with me lost in thought, not responding to her smile, Littlebit prompts, “Hey Tiger, what’s up? Tikki says I should keep you out of your own head, for everyone’s sakes. Whatever that means.”
Fighting my smile is pointless as it spreads across my face. I retort, “Yeah, Tiktik’s pretty right about that. If I wander around in my own head too far, I might step on a land mine. Figuratively,” then, under my breath I add, “I hope.”
There’s more than a few raised brows about my assertion, but I wave it off. I don’t wave off the lanky arms that drape themselves over my shoulders, but I just wear a smirk while raising a brow towards Ixeyla. She mutters, “Hey, legendary hero, you’re gonna win this and come out the other side. You have to, okay? You set me up with Pawn, and she’s sticking around. Don’t go letting my honeys get killed, my Prince or Pawn. A’right Beanpole?”
My face contorts at Ixeyla calling *me* a beanpole, when her human form is lanky as hell, but I can’t help laughing regardless. She quirks a smile my way before headbutting me lightly. As she leaves my personal space, I nod her way, acquiescing to her request. Of course I want Lil and Pawn to make it through the upcoming events unscathed as well. Ixeyla knows some of the lengths to which I’m willing to go in order to ensure the safety of those that I love.
Including, but not limited to, getting the attention of the full might of Terrorzin and his horde, and keeping their attention on me until it was safe to break away. Though I nearly didn’t. Luni’s intervention, or someone’s, gave me the escape route I needed to get above the Worldstorm. I’m fairly sure it was Luni. I should really sit Lu down at some point and pick her brain on just how much foresight I can rely on from her, without putting undue stress on her.
Xayla flashes me a warm smile, and telepathic undercurrents of gratitude. I nod their way, similarly wearing a warm smile. I’m glad the twin Reds are headed out, sure to be far away from the primary conflict. Leezahna, Lil, and the twins head towards Solace, in order to lasso Leeza’s mother into escort duty, a sly way of forcing her to evacuate with Leeza’s little sister.
So quietly, I almost mistake it for the whir of machinery, Nala mumbles, “Family. Hm?”
When I turn my attention to her however, Nala makes no effort to elucidate or even verify what I heard. Shrugging, I settle in. I need to recover a bit, and ship out with the first line of defenders towards Vieriss Valley in the morning. The morning which is only a couple of hours away. Yawning, I rattle my skull. I don’t think I’m capable of accomplishing anything else at the moment, save being near the two artificers while I get a nap in.
Littlebit looks both chagrined, and grateful, that I’m passing out with my face resting on my arms in the tinkering workspace, rather than heading back to Solace to join my family cuddle pile. I’m pretty sure I assured Lu or someone that I would come to bed, and I hate to break promises, but I’m so, so, so very beat. I’d probably pass out on the trip back up the tunnels of Solace even if I did try to head back at this point.
Hm, I think my surmisings about dragonforce are correct, that if an individual had their dragonforce tied up in enchantments, titling underlings, or other things, eventually that dragonforce finds its way to its new wielder after the original owner had been slain. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason I’ve got about a thousand days left of my dragonforce again, because I was getting dangerously low recently. That and my passive attempts to siphon off any external dragonforce I could manage while messing around with Terrorzin’s horde.
Oh, that might also mean that dragonforce is a bit of a first-come first-served specialty. Whoever starts imbibing first, or gets enough of a slain foe’s dragonforce first, likely eventually receives it filtering through the cosmos over time. Maybe. There are probably some caveats, like needing a certain amount of concentration, or intake of the heart, or something or other.
Tapping her chin, Nala nods before commenting on my thought train, “Yes, friend Reggie. Something like that anyway. You’re astute enough, and we’re all tired enough that I don’t feel it’s the appropriate time for a lecture on a subject in which you at least grasp the basics well enough to do your duties. I must say that—oh, you’re nearly asleep as I speak.”
Indeed, I find myself passing out as Nala explains away why she isn’t explaining away dragonforce to me at the moment. My eyelids, heavy as they are, remain closed, despite my best efforts to make eye contact with someone when they’re speaking as Nala was just now. Focusing on my external senses leads to them feeling sluggish, and my brain slow to respond to their inputs, slow to parse their meanings.
Focusing instead inwardly reveals little more than the fact that my body needs time to recuperate, that I’ve been pushing it far too hard, far too frequently. I’ve accidentally been relying on dragonforce in order to survive, using it subconsciously in order to bolster my regeneration, or health, or both. Something to that effect anyway. Regardless, the waking world feels like a pressure closing in on my head, weighing it down and building up in my ear canals. I succumb, letting sleep take me despite the whir of machinery, the hum of gadgets, and the clanking of busy little robots.