The two smoothly transitioned to the task at hand. First, Maeve familiarized Vin with her current thought processes and dilemmas. The overarching goal was to somehow get all the Ravenours out of the city and then travel across the continent to the demon territory, where they'd find the exit portal.

Sounded simple enough. The problem was 'how.' Almost all of the survivors were Novice rank, who were only as strong as a small beast, including Maeve and her guards. Hell, most Ravenours never surpassed Expert, yet they were intended to traverse a dimension with enemies three tiers higher than their own.

Before even considering embarking on that journey, Maeve had specific goals their army needed to achieve within the Elven city. Essential objectives like collecting rations, weapons, and medical supplies topped her list, each critical to their survival and their odds of reaching demon territory.

Vin minded her while she explained everything and, when she concluded, remarked, "I'm surprised you arranged this much already."

"I have to. For all those I failed and to prevent more from joining them." Maeve peered into his eyes, trying to decipher something about the human, and eventually commented, "I don't know what, but something about you has changed."

"I think so too," Vin admitted, thinking little of the matter and turning his attention back to the mess of papers.

"Just don't get comfortable," she instructed.

"I'd never."

They spent hours of thinking and plotting. The sound of skating in the background soothed him and helped him concentrate. He'd function even better with a full stomach, but that home had little sustenance. Luckily, there was a water well in the backyard, so every so often, Gideon brought cups of water to sate them.

With all the time Vin had to conspire, he couldn't think of any way to guarantee them rations, weapons, or medical reserves. In the end, there was only so much that could be accomplished without understanding more about that gorgeous, perilous city. He consulted the companion stuck to his spine, but, as expected, it didn't know more than what the librarian implemented into its knowledge.

His own background as a student taught him nothing about looting an enemy stronghold. But if there was one thing he was confident in, it was his speed. Only one role was suitable for someone as fast and nimble as him. Something he could do without relying on the treacherous power that fed on his very essence to manifest.

Vin looked back at the young man active on the skateboard, thinking about how to explain everything he'd cooked up in his thoughts. There was a quick loss of concentration as he tilted his head at Tristen, who was rolling up and down the now shabby Elven living room. All the furniture and plants were moved against the walls, so there was a clearing where the young man practiced. From what Vin saw, Antsy had mastered the basics of movement. He no longer bobbled, swayed, or even looked down for confirmation he was doing it correctly. In just one week, he'd actually taught himself proper form. 'He might be a prodigy.'

Vin didn't look away from the horned skater while deciding his own place in this dimension and then halfheartedly told Maeve, "I'm not suitable for plundering, but I can get around fast on wheels, so I'll handle scouting."

He sensed the one-winged woman's disagreement. From an outsider's perspective, he was truly on the brink of godly hood, unconditionally resurrecting effortlessly, learning magic, and flashing around flames like a mad furnace. Unfortunately, it only appeared that way; he was far from free to use those abilities without consequence.

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She may have thought it, but Maeve didn't try to force him into a more offensive role. Ultimately, he was not obligated to assist her in her mission to save her subjects, so she accepted the help he offered.

As for his objective, he'd begin by scouting the city for a place where warriors could arm themselves with proper weapons. After that, it would be easier for them to pilfer food and first aid. Next, he would alert Maeve and surrounding survivors of the location of this haul, and they would have to plan its retrieval.

With hours to think, he also had an idea for how to coordinate with the survivors. It was a bold idea, but this could be done by distributing mission flyers. Unlike him, Maeve still had a journal that could generate endless pages. She would create these enlistment handouts herself, and he would circulate them with the exact time and location of their raid.

Maeve acknowledged his plan to pass out flyers was practical. Their language, Vulcan, didn't exist on that planet yet, so it couldn't be decoded. Her concerns were on the low odds that other Ravenours in hiding would discover any of these papers.

Vin already had a solution. He hoped she wouldn't have asked questions, but she was rightfully thorough. This meant he had to explain that he could sense the souls of living beings within a certain radius. It was as good as useless in dense populations, but now that most survivors had been dispersed, it would work.

She believed him even without any way to verify his ability. Well, maybe she saw the honesty in his eyes and took his word as verity. Nevertheless, Maeve served under the assumption he could soul-search for her scattered citizens. She knew she was in no position to do so but added a request to his assignment. The royal wanted Vin to bring Gideon with him as her representative so he could gauge the well-being of their subjects. It was a job she wanted to do herself, but not when her leg was broken.

Tristen had been listening and chimed in, dashing up to the rear of their chairs and throwing himself between them. He argued that he was quicker than his counterpart on foot and even faster on a skateboard. Maeve heard him out and then shot him down. She was candid when she voiced that Gideon was a better candidate because he was more focused and objective. She didn't forget the youthful Ravenour panicked the day before, which led to him being beheaded and disclosing their location.

Tristen became visibly downhearted as he backed off their seats and walked back. Antsy aside, Vin didn't want to take Gideon either. Maeve implored him to do so just once and even offered him the spell of Silence to aid their cause.

After recalling his first impressions of Auroraan, Vin was intrigued by this spell, but was it worth being slowed down? Possibly hurled into danger and killed.

"Just this once," Maeve repeated, holding him with a tenacious yet pleading gaze. "I have to know how my people are doing."

Vin peered at her, wondering if this was another one of her tactics to get him to comply with her demands. Ever since they met, no matter how often he disagreed with her, somehow, he always did what she wanted. 'Though, this time, I offered to help on my own. I just didn't expect to have to babysit.'

'She knows I don't care about her subjects. If she hadn't said anything, I would have distributed the handouts without interacting with their fellow brutes at all.'

A brief, haunting image flickered across his mind as he reluctantly recalled the way she'd looked the night before, eyes filled with sorrow as she silently wept. 'As their ruler, she feels responsible for everything that's happened... It won't make a difference, but at the very least, she deserves to know how her citizens are holding up.'

Vin sighed and accepted her bid. It was better than her sending her guards alone, and they got spotted and killed. He'd be involved with them one way or another. "We'll go out tonight, once it's dark, and there's fewer patrols."

Once the decision was finalized, Tristen lowered his head and mumbled something indecipherable. Vin rose, wandered over to the sulking Ravenour, and nudged him, "Keep practicing; you might be needed another time."

He never imagined he'd ever work with those barbarians. Ravenours had massacred many humans, yet he'd found himself as another cog in their merciless wheel.