The two giggled, Gwenvair glancing in shock at her mother actually giggling, before looking back to the Eccentric.
“I’m uncertain how fair it truly is, but still, thank you.”
Joe waved away their concern with a smile but then schooled his face as he looked at them with his own concern, “If those cores are really as … dangerous as you say, are you going to be OK?”
Both nodded, “As long as they are not known.”
“But they are useless while unknown.”
“They can be held for a moment of extreme distress.”
Joe smiled, nodding, “Well, as long as you will be safe and … yeah.”
“Nobody can know… so…”
Joe nodded, replying quickly with a laugh, “They won’t hear of it from me!”
Both laughed politely in return, nodding, but uncertain of what to say. The three fell into a bit of an awkward silence before Joe started in with some polite small talk which the two woman quickly leapt to, seeking escape. The conversation return quickly to their easy banter and they enjoyed the evening with one another until Joe finally begged release, saying goodbye.
“Well. I truly enjoyed this evening, even if you took even more cores from me,” the Eccentric joked, laughing brightly.
His obvious lack of offense actually relieved the two women and they laughed back politely before nodding, “And for which we are truly grateful!”
“You’re welcome. Truly. It was … I’m glad I was able to help. It cost me very little. Truly, so you do not need to think much of it.”
Gwenvair smiled but didn’t trust his easy disregard of sixty perfect cores, but then she remember the spread of thousands and thought that such a thing may have truly been true. Regardless, she took this moment and buried it deeply within her heart as a moment of true gratitude. An unusual event for her life.
Her mother smiled and stood, the other two quickly standing as well, “Then please enjoy your stay in our city. You do not need to have concern while you are here.”
“Neither do you. I truly attempt to abide by the laws of the people I am with. You need fear nothing from me.”
The two politely smiled and nodded, not offering any reply and the Eccentric spoke on, filling the silence.
“Then I will go. This was actually fun. Thank you.”
This statement actually elicited a bright smile from both of them as mother and daughter realized it had truly been fun. The three left the room, Gwenvair picking up her privacy artifact as they did so. They offered thanks, grateful for the enjoyable meeting and a promise for another in the future which was actually sincere from the Eccentric, if Gwenvair was reading him correctly.
When they got out of the room, the Eccentric offered his last good byes and turned to go when her mother interrupted his leaving.
“It appears that it is too late for the gate, so please, accept the company of my captain,” her mother stated before continuing on with the captain of their guards, “Please return him to his gate and allow him egress. Smooth his exit with the inner gate guards.”
The captain bowed deeply, accepting his role with much more grace than earlier, “Yes, Matriarch. As you command.”
The captain turned to Joe and also bowed, “Eccentric. I am at your service.”
Joe smiled, “Thank you, although you don’t need to be so stiff. You can relax with me.”
The captain refused to relax and the two were soon walking away, Joe unsuccessfully trying to break through the captain’s stiff demeanor. As they were walking around the corner, Joe still needling the captain to relax, she looked at her mother to see her mother also having glanced at her and both burst into truly free laughter. Relief of a problem solved mixed with the humor of the Eccentric and the absolutely bizarre and mind boggling events that had occurred in the room. They turned towards their clan home, bursting into giggles every dozen steps or so, which set to other off. They continued like this for almost a bell before they finally settled down.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
They walked in silence for a bit of a time before her mother waved her hand and raised a simple privacy shield. It was weaker, and not as useful or powerful as her own artifact or the array in the restaurant, but it was much more useful, able to move with them as they traveled.
“A truly unique man,” she replied.
Gwenvair smiled, “Yes, he really is.”
Her mother smiled a bit before looking at her side long, “Unique enough for you?”
Gwenvair blushed before she flounced and tossed her hair, “We shall have to see?’
Her mother turned forward again before humming softly to herself, “Hmm… then I guess I shouldn’t pursue him in your stead, then?”
Gwenvair clinched her teeth and glared up at her mother. She held her faux anger a few moments before both began chuckling again.
“He spoke… faster than any other I’ve ever met,” her mother whispered quietly.
Gwenvair nodded, “Not too fast, though. Still… faster than we usually are comfortable with!”
Her mother breathed a sigh, nodding silently, “Very fast… but still not as fast as he is capable. His control is…”
Her mother trailed off, saying nothing as both understood what it meant to have such intrinsic control of ones capabilities and stats. They walked the rest of the way home in companionable silence, relief and peace having washed away the stress that had been driving them for days mixing with no small amount of awe.
* * *
In the seat of power of the Great Clan Bunarl, the clan messenger service was always one of the busiest areas, as was the case of all great clans. In charge of maintaining communication with all distant and questing members of the Bunarl Clan while also maintaining the rule of power of the Bunarl Clan over its underling clans that pledge subservience to them. While the messenger service was always busy, it was the busyness of the norm. Little could come that would truly disrupt that work of the messenger service but today proved unusual. A priority message of vital importance had arrived, and it’s brilliant color had been eye catching, bringing the whole service to a halt as clerks, runners, messenger boys, and managers all froze, staring at the highest priority message possible. The runner carrying the message walked both proudly and with great speed, although he kept his speed to a rapid walk. Running was expressly forbidden for the runners, ironically enough. The only people who could run were the messenger boys; a separate area exiting directly out of the building having been set aside for this very purpose for messages that required travel to the clan itself.
The runner entered the room of the messenger head, Patriarch of the messenger service. The Patriarch looked up in anger, ready to snap at the runner when he noticed the color of the priority message. His face paled a bit, snatching it from the runner as he looked at the details of the message, even if he could not read the crystal itself. The message was always private, while the sender and receiver were always known. When he saw who was to receive the message, his concern spiked, but the sender confused him, and he looked up at the runner.
“Who are the Galgandar clan?”
The runner quickly bowed, obviously expecting the question as he’d had the same issue, taking the time to look it up on the map before bringing the message, “They are the clansmen of Coushar.”
“Where?”
“A small city on the frontier, sir. It used to be the Sharnorn clan’s city?” the runner offered politely.
“Oh!”
Realization came to the Patriarch’s face, the fiasco a few hundred years ago still remembered by all. A well timed lesson used to dominate and maintain Bunarl’s supremacy and leadership. Sharnorn clan was no more, but the event was still vividly remembered. Despite that, nothing of value or import came from that city and the Patriarch frowned. A priority message from such a clan was usually a death sentence for such a clan. Great clans cared little for lesser clans. Only in what they received from them. Ostensibly, a lesser clan gained the protection of the great clans. In reality, the best course of action of a lesser clan was simply to be invisible and not call the attention of the greater clan.
A new lesser clan, such as the Galgandar clan, may not realize the fire they were playing with, but there was little the Patriarch of the messengers could do to protect them. In fact, the Patriarch of the clan had no desire whatsoever to protect them, only profit if he could, and a small clan such as this would have nothing of profit for him. So, he passed the message to a runner and sent it to the clan Patriarch and its eventual demise.
Unusually, the clan Patriarch proved to be in an excellent mood that day and did not call for the destruction of the clan. Instead, he sent a low level functionary in his stead, a volunteer, no doubt seeking to ingratiate himself with the Patriarch. The functionary received the Patriarch’s command to attend to the small Galgandar clan of Coushar city, but he did not receive any information on the priority of such a call. The functionary diligently planned his travel, carefully evaluating and planning his clan funded vacation for his family. The preparations, as expected of such a great and illustrious effort, took months, and the itinerary was appropriately vast and studded with a variety of myriad remarkable locations suitable for a great clans’ members to visit and reap the many rewards illustrious clan members gained when bestowing their magnificent presence upon the lesser. Ironically, Coushar proved to be nothing more than a unremarkable few day stop for the functionary while his family continued their vacation at a much greater, more appropriate, location.