Ordan moved trough the streets of Alebridge like a fish through water. People barely registered him as he slinked past, squeezing between wagons and cutting his way trough the city at a decent clip. This city was his home and few knew it as well as he did. Few knew that if you cut trough the Butchers alley just as you entered the city, you came to a pair of stairs that led down into a old cellar once used to store grain that now been made a gambling den. Or that some of the street kids had set up a bunch of improvised ladders to get the rooftops in a area of the city where the buildings were so tightly packed you could easily jump roof to roof to get away from angry vendors and city guards. Indeed, Ordan knew every nook and corner and hideaway as he moved through every little side tunnel or backalley. He could take this route in the dark or blindfolded, he had used it so many times. Up the ladders, across the rooftops, down into a yard meant for parking wagons, slip trough the wooden fence that never got fixed. Suddenly he had gotten to inner gates where he took a sharp left and hurried up the wall, following it untill he got to where a ajecent building har been buitl wall to wall with the inner walls. He hopped onto the roof, slipped down the side to the balcony, then hopped onto another roof and hopped off again to land on the street outside a small shop with a sign that read 'Kamirs Glassware and Alchemicals.' Adjusting the collar of his expensive robe, he slipped into the store. A man in colorful silks stood at the counter, carefully packaging a set of crystal tumblers for a old man in very expensive clothing.

The store furniture and interior was built in a much lighter kind of lumber without the deep dark hues of the oak that most the buildings in Alebridge was made out of. It gave the otherwise small shop an illusion of being roomier then it was. It was further helped by large stained windows that looked out onto the street.

The man in the silks looked up and narrowed his eyes at Ordans entrance. The two men had similair features, but the man known as Kamir looked to be a few years older then Ordan and his hair was cut short and neat unlike Ordans lush locks.

“Ordan.” The man spoke with a voice that anaged to be warm and annoyed all at once. He passed the package onto his customer who bowed slightly and said something Ordan could not fully catch. Kamir thanked them an for his patronage then turned his gaze fully back towards Ordan who simply grinned.

“Kamir.” Ordan answered in that smarmy, aloof voice he affixed to get under peoples skin. It seemed to barely phase his brother who had at this point become an expert at simply not reacting to his brothers ways. Instead he looked almost bored which had the effect of getting under Ordans skin.

“How was the trip north brother?” Kamir picked up a glass bauble that looked like a small bird shaped out of molten glass, and started to polish it. The entire was filled with variations of glasses, pitchers, alchemical vials and other glasswares that were difficult to produce or get your hands on in these parts of the north.

Ordan hesistated. He wasn't sur how much he should tell Kamir while in the open like this. Instead he opted for a vague answer, knowing Kamir would ask again later, when there wasn't so many pottential eavesdropers. Kamir understood how these things worked. Out of the two brothers, Kamir was the sly one .“It was... Interesting." He paused and swept the store, before turning back to his brother. "Is mother around.”

“She is visiting father.” Kamirs tone and expression shifted subtly, growing soft and concerned. Ordans matched his brothers at the mention of their Father. The pyromancer knew exactly where his mother was if she was visitng their father. The two shared a moment of silent reflection, before Ordan began to head for the door.

“I shall go talk to her.” He said as he reached for the handle only to stay his hand when Kamir called out.

“Ordan.” Kamirs voice shifted again, warmer and kinder this time. Their little game from before was no longer relevant.

“Yes?” Ordan felt a smile creep up across his lips. But he only turned around enough for him to glance at Kamir over his shoulder. Kamir for his part gave Ordan a warm, brotherly smile as he spoke.

“Glad you made it back safely.” The words made Ordan smile a bit wider. He and his brother had a complicated relationship as far as their family went. There was a a lot of old, hurtful memories and fights that never been settled properly. Ever since their father died, Ordan had been the agressively outgoing type. Kamir was more reserved, and had dealt with their farthers death in a much more mature and measured manner.

“I still owe you money, don't I?” Ordan answered with a grin, to which Kamir just sighed and nodded.

“That you do.”

***

Ordan knew exactly where his mother would be as he moved deeper into the city. This part of the city was hilly and less even. The streets wind between houses built ontop of and into the hill that rose in the center of the city. The houses here were a bit more refined, some of them having wrough iron doors and runic protection on the windows. It was here among the more expensive residential housing you could find a small plot of land that was entirely untouched but for a few, small monuments. The air smelled of the white flowers that grew in abundance around each monument.

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A woman stood by one of monuments, running a wet rag across a golden bird in flight. It was on top of a small pedestal in black stone. A placate underneath read "For those that took flight with the Valkeries, we wish to see you again one day."

The woman looked to be around late sixties, with gray hair that still had a little bit of color to it. She was a short woman, with a deep, dark complexion and eyes of burnt amber. She was unrooting the weeds around the monuments, staying on her knees while she tugged, cut and dug out the weeds with monticules efficiency. Ordan knew something had happened, as the only time he saw his mother fully throw her into such menial tasks was when her head head was not in the right space to do anything more complicate.d

“Ordan.” Her voice rang out before he could even enter the little graveyard. Her back still to him, he none the less stiffed and carried himself in a way far more rigid then he intended it o be.

“Mother” He spoke softly, bowing slightly at the waist before he entered the graveyard and walked up to the elderly woman. She was putting the weeds in a small metal container. Every so often she'd tap a small crystal embedded into the lid of the container and it would lit up before smoke billowed out from the container.

“How did it go?” She asked without turning or looking at him, still working with the weeds in front of her. Her voice held a inquisitive tone to it as she finished up the last of the weeds waited for his answer.

“Olaf and the others all made it back." Ordan looked over at the other monuments. Compared to the one that his Mother tended to, they looked scuffed. There was weeds climbing the obsidian pedestals and one of the golden statues had been covered in bird droppings. He turned back to her as he added. "We got attacked however. A caravan guard died and more would have lost their life if not for a couple of new friends." He saw her shoulder tense a little at athe mention of being attacked and she finally looked over to him. Her amber eyes were stern and sharp, fixing him with a look that demanded answers.

"Was Ainar behind the ambush” She asked as she began to gather up her tools and put them into a small woven basket.

“Yes. He put some of his people in with his bandits.” Ordan confirmed and thought back on the encounter. He had by far had the easiest task and come out of without a hair on his head being harmed.

“It figures. My sources says he is getting impatient." She sighed. "And the crone? Did you get her to seer for you.”

“She did. I am still untangling her vision.” Ordan sighed, as he had made little headway on figuring out what the old womans vision back at Hemgård was about.

“Tell me about the vision that she described.”

“Three fires. One dying, all but embers left. One bright and lively. One raging and all consuming.”

“Well my son. We both know who the bright flame is. As for the dying one, I have an inkling. But I will need to confirm it. The raging one however, I don't feel I met a person who fits that description.”

“I think I know who that is” Ordan said as a thought formed within his mind. He remembered a very angry, very ferocious new friend of his that seemed to ignite and just go throw herself into trouble. He smiled at the look on his mothers face. It wasn't often e got a word in edgewise. She was a cunning and extremely wise woman.

“Oh?” She said as she prepared to get up to her feet.

“Turned out the goddess of death sent someone over from another world. A berserker. One I imagine will take the Oath of the Rose eventually.” This got a visible reaction from her. Ordan grinned, happy to see such a reaction from his mother who had mastered the art of remaining stoic in the face of anything. Much like his older brother had.

“Really?” His mother looked him over with a critical eye. Looking for some sort of joke or misstake on his part. When she found none, she simply asked for him to clarify. "Tell me more"

“They are already a fierce fighter. And they bested a undead beast by themselves without having any clue at how anything here works.” Ordan began to explain how they found them by a bear that should have easily killed the at the time unleveled Saga.

“Affinities?” She asked, rubbing her chin.

“Death. ” Ordan spoke, then hesitatated. "And I think, Rebirth."

The woman froze before she gave a soft shuckle. She slowly got up from sitting on her knees and it was as if every part of her was seizing up at the motion. Ordan moved to help her but she waved him away. Her eyes were sharp and lively, but her skin was marred with strange blotches of pale and graying skin. Anyone who seen it before would be able to tell what it was; necrotized tissue and flesh.

“I would like to meet them.” She said finally, turned to look him in the eyes.