I should’ve known better than this, really. We knew that somebody was coming after the guy and we left them completely alone, it would’ve been so easy to leave one of us here and keep them safe, what an embarrassing lapse in my judgement. I took the initiative and started moving through the space to see what I could find. Everyone else was clearly new to the business of being an adventurer, or rather they’ve been forced into it, I can’t blame them for standing around witless, I used to be like that too. I began investigating the scene, looking through the mess that was made to find any hints as to who did this and, if possible, why.
I began by cleaning up the place. Books had been strewn haphazardly across the floor, bookshelves were overturned, and what little furniture there was had been smashed to pieces. The others caught on quicker than I had expected, similarly moving to tidy up. Maybe they’d make good adventurers after all.
“Well well,” I exclaim, “seems like they knew we’d be here, they’ve left us a little gift.” I pick up a small card off of the floor, it’s black as pitch and covered in purple inscriptions. It has a symbol of a closed eye on one side, and a message on the other. “Take a look. A calling card, the cocky bastards.” I say, handing the card to Valefor.
“We’ve got our eyes on you… the Shade Syndicate?” He reads the card out to the rest of the group.
“Seems like we’ve got a name for the guys that did this, huh?” I ask, “Now let’s see what else these guys have left us to look at.”
“Hey, everyone, look at this.” Xhyn calls us over, examining a spot on the wall. His hands run along a small fissure in the stone brick, a perfectly straight line running through the wall. It was clearly not natural, and curiously, it was outlined in frost, covering the bricks around it with ice.
“A blade,” I say after examining it for long enough, “that’s what made this mark, but the coat of frost around it is clearly magical.” I place my hand on it briefly before I draw it back, recoiling. Even for ice it’s unnaturally cold, threatening to freeze my hand solid with a single touch.
“So…” Valefor adds, “We know that the person who took Angtal was working with that man in the black armour, and they used a sword with some kind of ice magic. Not a whole lot of information to work with.”
“On the contrary, actually.” I interject, looking across the room to another similar mark in the wall. “This mark is also from a bladed weapon, but it doesn’t have the same freezing effect. Either the culprit can choose when to use their magic, or there was at least one other person. Not only that, but from the way the man in black retreated, we know they get around using portals of some kind. So they at least got out of here without a trace.” I point to the floor to emphasise my point. “Look at the footsteps, as frantic as they are, they lead in here, but not out. They didn’t leave by normal means.”
The group considers this, and they don’t find any flaws in my logic. Some of them even make small exclamations as they process the information, following my train of thought. “Wait,” Hoolio says, startling me slightly, he’s so small I forgot he was even here, “we still don’t know where they took the prophet. How does any of this help us?”
“Oh.” I say, “I thought you’d all figured that out by now. They came in here on foot, but left with their portals. Therefore, we can guess that their portals can’t just take them anywhere. That means they have a… home base, of sorts that they would have gone to. The prophet has to be there.” Some of them nod, having made that conclusion themselves, others are more surprised, only just now connecting the dots.
“Wow,” Hoolio gasped, looking up at me, seemingly in awe, “You’re smart.”
I allow myself a small smile, although nobody can see it, and chuckle to myself. “I wouldn’t say ‘smart’, more… experienced.” I turn back to the doorway, feeling my trench coat lightly swish out behind me. “Anyway,” I add, “that’s all the evidence there is to get from here. We can go now. Didn’t you hear? The locals are going to throw us a feast.”
“Hold on, one last thing.” Valefor interjects before I step out the door, “Look here, the bedsheet, it’s singed.” My stride immediately stopped as I quickly spun around. Me? Miss something? Not possible. I looked over to where Valefor was standing, holding up the bed frame that had been tipped upside down. “Ice magic can’t have done this, it’s just not possible.” Sure enough, the edge of the bed was blackened and crumbling, having been burned recently.
“Oh, of course,” I say a little too hurriedly, trying to save face, “I knew that, that’s why I said there was more than one guy. Two different kinds of magic, ice and fire. There’s no way that was done by one person.” I glance at his face as I turn to leave again. He’s not buying it. Damn.
The others follow me out of the building, unable to find any more clues. As I walk back to the city, I survey the damage caused by the man in black. He tore a ragged path of aimless destruction through the streets. My eyes trace the path he took, houses had been damaged, streets had holes smashed into them, but there was nothing that couldn’t be repaired. All it would take was a little time and effort and everything would be good as new. Other than the lives that were lost. They could never be restored.
When we finally got back to the city, we saw the locals patching up their homes, doing the bare minimum to fix their town before they could start the full reconstruction effort. For now, however, they were focusing on celebrating. Cheering through the streets at our arrival, lauding us as their heroes. I located their mayor at once, standing at the entrance to city hall, directing the preparations for the banquet. “Hey, you.” I call over to him, approaching him quickly.
“Oh! Spellslinger!” He replies, caught a little off guard by my informal addressing of him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Is the venue you’re using for the celebrations secure?” I ask, quickly analysing the building behind him.
“City hall?” He asks, looking behind him before turning back to me. “There’s no safer place in the entire city, I assure you. Why do you ask?”
“I get the feeling that the people who did this could come back,” I answer, “It’s best to be safe. You’re sure there’s no way someone could break in and hurt more people?”
“100%.” He replies, “During celebrations like this, we have guards watching every entrance and exit, there’s no need for you to worry.” I shift in my spot slightly, uncomfortable with these arrangements. I turn to the rest of the group, who finally caught up with me.
“All of you, go… help setting up or something. I have business to do.” I tell them, walking off again around the side of the building. I hear their sounds of indignation, but ignore them. I have more important things to worry about than their feelings.
I give the side of the building a closer examination. The windows were all shut, all the doors aside from the main entrance were firmly locked, and any structural issues were minimal. To my surprise, the building was, in fact, secure. I can’t find even a single possible infiltration route. It still doesn’t feel safe though. I climb up the side of the building and clamber onto the roof. I take my rifle off of my shoulders and hoist it to my shoulder, looking down its sights to see what I can see. There’s nothing around except a crush of people streaming into the building. There has to be something. Nothing’s safe. Nothing’s ever safe.
After walking through the city, searching down shady back alleys and rundown storefronts, I realise that we might really be in the clear. I’ve been away from the group for too long, though, the night sky is now completely dark aside from a dusting of stars.
It’s an uncommon sight in any city, the clear night sky. With the streetlamps turned down low the beauty of the heavens could be seen in all its glory. Maybe these townsfolk do have a taste for the finer things in life. I stand still and breathe in the cool night air, it’s been a while since I was able to relax this easily. I wait there a moment, taking it all in.
I finally get back to moving and head towards town hall, hearing the chattering of the townspeople get louder as I approach. There’s an uncomfortable crush of people filing into the city’s centre, I try to push my way through but get stuck in the crowd. It feels hot and stuffy, like a box threatening to close me in and trap me. I realise that maybe just a little bit of magic would be worthwhile to get out of this situation. With the little room I have, I unsling my rifle and do the only logical thing. I load a round into it, and shoot myself.
The ethereal plane is infinitely quieter, the world as normal shaded in a blue-ish hue. I sling my rifle once more and walk through the barren streets, now devoid of their inhabitants, their non stop talking now muffled, as though I’m standing underwater while they chat on the surface. I walk effortlessly up the steps to the front entrance, not hindered by anybody in my way, and enter the building. Unfortunately, the spell can’t last forever, and I slowly fade back into the material plane, the light in the room shifting from blue to orange and the full volume of the hall reaching my ears. My head was back above the water.
The cacophony of the hall is deafening. Hundreds of conversations overlapping with elegant music fighting to be heard over the top of it all. I shoulder my way through the guests and stride between tables to find the group again, I spot them sitting up at the head table.
Sitting down in the seat reserved for me, I tune in on their conversation, everyone looking at Xhyn as he tells a story of some sort. “-gave him this vial and take his money, but as soon as I do, he looks me dead in the eye and says ‘Oi, this ain’t my potion!’” The whole group bursts out into laughter, I don’t get the joke. The one Hoolio called ‘Matchstick’ isn’t laughing though, I like him, no nonsense, the kind of attitude that keeps you alive longer.
Hoolio, sitting next to me, looks up at me with his too-large eyes and asks “Well, where in the hells have you been then?” Like I owe him an explanation, who’s this kid to think he can demand information from me like that?
“Making sure we’re all safe,” I respond, “You never know when your enemies are going to strike.” Hoolio gives me a small nod of respect before dropping the subject and going back to whatever conversation they were having with everyone else before I arrived.
The preacher stands up from his seat and approaches me, though I hear him before I see any of that. His armour is terribly loud, that’s sure to cause him trouble at some point when he wants to go unnoticed. Not my problem. He holds out his hand… paw? For me to shake, his other is clutched around a glass of wine. “I introduced myself to everyone else, but you weren’t around,” he says, “Havsen, Paladin of Arlun, pleasure to meet you.”
Arlun? I’ve travelled this continent my whole life and I’ve never even heard of that god. Regardless I take his hand and give it a firm shake, his paw is unbelievably soft. “The pleasure’s mine,” I reply, “you can call me Glue. That healing thing you do, is that part of your oath?”
“Oh, that?” He says, “Yes, Arlun’s light is gifted to me as a benefit of following his teachings. It only allows me to heal others, though, never myself.”
I raise my eyebrows, intrigued, “Really?” I continue, “Well, you’re doing better than me. I’m an offensive guy, I can’t even heal other people, let alone myself.”
He shrugs, “Some people are better at some things than others.” He replies wisely, “Anyway, I wouldn’t want to harm someone if they weren’t beyond redeeming. Meaningless violence is called meaningless for a reason.”
I smile, but in my mind I know this is naive, violence is a necessary evil. I cut off the conversation with him and finally reach for some food. I hadn’t realised it, but I’m starving. As soon as I decide to start eating, however, the mayor stands up and gets the party’s attention, effectively silencing the hall. He raises his in a toast and pulls out a small piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “People of Panatura!” He calls out, “We celebrate here today to honour the valour of these seven brave individuals.” He holds his arms out wide, gesturing to us, I shrink back slightly in my seat. Attention is never a good thing.
“If it were not for this party, our beloved city would not be standing today, so I ask you to raise your glasses in a toast, to the heroes of Panatura!” He cries, the whole crowd raising their glass at once and cheering for us. I feel a warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach, something I haven’t felt in a while. I’d almost forgotten how nice helping people felt. I even find myself raising my own glass, a broad smile across my face before I drain it of its contents. The music quickly resumes and I go back to my meal.
Before I can even take a bite, the mayor approaches us. “Adventurers! I hope I’m not interrupting anything!” He greets us, sounding as cheerful as ever.
I look down at my untouched plate and sigh, “No,” I answer, “It’s fine, really, what d’you need?”
“Well, it’s not that I need anything,” He responds “You’ve all garnered the attention of some very powerful individuals that I dare not deal with in your stead!” He chuckles to himself, as though he’s just told a funny joke. I nervously laugh along with him. “Anyway,” He continues, “The ambassadors to Panatura from each of the four nations wish to speak with you. Each of the kingdoms is gathering powerful people for the upcoming war, that’s what this’ll be about, no doubt. Whether you choose to actually speak with them or not is up to you, but, no matter your decision, I wish you luck.”
He takes his time to point out four distinct individuals in the crowd. There’s a towering behemoth of a man sitting at a table too low for him. A man who looks all too similar to Valefor, overly extravagant clothes and all. A smaller man with heavy-set features and a burly build. And a man with avian features not too dissimilar to Hoolio’s, but more humanoid, and closer to a crow than an owl. He walks away to entertain other guests, leaving us to our business.
I look down at my plate sadly and stuff a bread roll in my face before standing up. It’s best to not keep people in power waiting. I notice that a few members of our group look apprehensive about talking to people, staring at one ambassador or another. I wonder what they’ve done to be so nervous around them. Regardless, it looks like I’ll be talking to the ambassadors mostly by myself. So much for a feast in our honour, I have work to do.
I decide that it’ll be best if I just get Litoren out of the way quickly. Valefor’s the rare exception of a Litorese person that I can actually tolerate. Speak of a devil, Valefor places an arm on my shoulder, halting me as I start to walk away. “I… think I might have to go with you to talk to this one.” He pats my shoulder once before taking the lead and walking over to the Litorese ambassador. “He’s bound to be a little difficult!” he calls back over his shoulder, smiling all the while.
The man is looking in a small hand mirror as we approach, not even looking up at us when we reach him. “Ah,” The man exclaims, “just the man I wanted to see!” He completely ignores me, preferring to address exclusively Valefor as though I don’t exist. “It was truly astonishing how you single-handedly brought down that ghastly terrorist earlier. Genuinely, I’m impressed, and I must say that doesn’t happen often.”
I look back and forth between the man and Valefor, my confusion luckily hidden behind my mask. “Uh, excuse me,” I interrupt, “it wasn’t ‘single-handedly’, there were seven of us. Valefor definitely couldn’t’ve done it alone.”
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The man finally looks away from his mirror and down at me, a look of disgust spreads across his face. “Oh.” He grimaced, “One of those posers trying to take a hard-working Litorese man’s credit. You people make me sick.” He says a little too casually, going back to his mirror and correcting an invisible imperfection in his hair. He continues to talk to Valefor, “Regardless,” he says, “you have been issued an invitation, my dear fellow.”
The ambassador takes a cobalt blue envelope lined with silver from his pocket, sealed with a wax crest of some sort which I can’t make out. As he hands it to Valefor, he tells him “This letter will get you into the palace at Litoren.” He glances away from his mirror for a moment to smile at Valefor, “We can always use more elves like you, especially with the oncoming war. Make your way there as soon as possible and I can personally assure you that you’ll be well looked after.” After that, he laughs obnoxiously at something somebody on his table said, and pretends that we don’t exist.
I look up at Valefor, rightfully furious about the way the ambassador for his country just treated me. He shoots me a look in turn, apologetic, as though he expected this. Now that I think about it, this must be why he insisted on coming with me to talk to this guy. It was because he’s an arrogant prick. “So, Glue,” Valefor says, “I really don’t want to meet the other ambassadors. If they’re anything like the Litorese one, they can’t be pleasant, especially to me. You’re free to talk to them, but I’m politely backing out.” He gives me a light pat on the back and heads back to the table with the rest of our group.
As I make my way to the next ambassador, I feel something small knock into me, sending me tumbling to the floor. I hear clicking around me in the spot where I’ve landed, hundreds of tiny sounds layered over each other. Hoolio is sprawled out on the floor in front of me, I guess he’s what knocked me over. “Oi!” he cries, flapping up off of the floor and scooping up handfuls of ball bearings which have scattered all over the ground from a bag at his waist, “Now look at what you’ve done!”
“What I’ve done?” I reply, “You’re the one that ran into me! Watch where you’re going!” As I’m chastising Hoolio, a rather wealthy-looking woman trips on the ball bearings which Hoolio’s spilled, and comes crashing down with a loud scream.
Hoolio runs over to the woman, apologising profusely, “My goodness! I’m so sorry! Here, let me help you up!” He offers a hand to the woman, who takes it graciously. I then watch as Hoolio proceeds to raid her pockets for several precious items before ‘patting her down’ and sending her on her way. He gives me a questioning look and whispers “What? Money is money!” before picking up the last of the ball bearings and walking away.
“I came to find out what the commotion was,” says a voice from behind me, “Are you alright?” I hoist myself to my feet and turn around to see Xhyn standing there, a concerned look spread across his face.
“Just a little fall,” I reassure him, “I’ll be fine.” I shoot him a smile before realising that he can’t see it.
“You’re talking to all the ambassadors, right?” He asks, “Mind if I come along? I was planning to travel around the continent anyway, but this is like an immediate introduction to other cultures!”
“I mean, the invitation was open to all of us.” I respond, “But either way I don’t mind, come along if you want.” This kid, admittedly, is growing on me. He has a kind of lust for worldly knowledge that I can appreciate, knowing this kind of stuff can save your life after all.
So I set off again, closely followed by Xhyn, towards the Exardean ambassador. At least having Xhyn with me might make him slightly more tolerable.
The man is a giant, that’s no exaggeration. Standing at least 8 feet tall he completely overshadows everybody else at his table. He immediately notices us, turning his gaze down towards us, his eyes almost glowing red like the dying embers in a fireplace. “Ah, the so-called heroes show themselves at last.” He finally speaks, his voice deep and gravelly, projecting out over the noise of the hall. “I must admit, I thought you would be bigger.” He chuckles at his own comment and sighs to himself.
“Nope.” Xhyn answers “We’re… uh… not big.” He stammers nervously, his body stiff under the watch of the man.
The ambassador, for whatever reason, throws his head back and lets out a bark of laughter that booms out across the room, turning several heads nearby. He continues to laugh for an uncomfortably long amount of time before bringing his head back to look at us and wiping a tear from his eye. “You’re a funny one!” He claims, pointing an enormous finger at Xhyn’s chest, “there aren’t enough people like you back in the capital!”
From my experience, his statement is surprisingly true, I’d never seen a timid exardean in my life.
“I- Thank you?” Xhyn responds, sounding more like a question than anything.
“So… sir.” I finally address him, watching his face turn to me and the light of interest leave his eyes, “There was a reason you wanted to talk to us?”
“Right. Aren’t you boring…” he mutters to himself, foraging around in his pockets and pulling out a letter which he hands to Xhyn. The paper is stained with a black powder and the handwriting is messy, yet consistent. On it is no grand declaration or complex prose, just a simple invitation which reads.
“Your strength has been recognised by the nation of Exardesca. As such, you are invited to the palace in the capital city for an audience with the emperor, his imperial majesty Silas Everbyrn. This invitation is to be presented to any guardhouse at the city walls in order to receive entry and welcome into the capital and the palace. We look forward to your presence in the court of this realm’s strongest nation. Strength of the people, power of the nation.”
Of course the letter would end with the country’s motto, Exardeans just love to shove their military strength down other people’s throats. Exardesca’s army is, of course, the largest in the continent, even those who aren’t in the military are capable of some form of combat. They take great pride in the individual strength of their citizens, likening them to ants, who are strong themselves, but are stronger as a collective.
“As you can see,” the ambassador says, “That letter will grant you entry into Exardesca without having to deal with any… complications.” His statement worries me, in my experience, it’s pretty easy to get in and out of Exardesca as long as you pass their searches. What's changed since then…?
“Regardless,” he continues, “I do hope you take us up on this opportunity, the chance to work with the emperor directly is not one many get so easily. I hope you’re grateful.”
Easily? Does he really think that getting that man out of town was easy? As far as I could tell, we only got out of there alive due to luck and luck alone. Regardless, we thank him for the invite and move on. Meeting him has sowed more concern in me than excitement, what’s going on in the west?
I ignore the feeling of dread in my stomach and head to the next table, that of the Terrascan ambassador who is, understandably, seated at the other side of the hall. His shorter build, I find, is due to him being a dwarf, the race of people who live in Terrasco. They tend to be smaller and stockier, but they have steel in their bones and an earthy kind of strength that I’ve not seen elsewhere.
As we approach his table, he is downing a mug of beer, at least his twelfth, judging from the stack of glasses beside him. He slams his empty drink down on the table and sees the pair of us, waving us over to him. “So,” he starts, “only two of ya? I knew not all of ye would come and chat, but I though’ it’d be more’n two!” He beams at us. His accent is thick and his voice full of merriment, it’s a little hard to make out what he’s saying.
“The others are occupied at the moment,” I smile back, “so I’m afraid you’re stuck with us. Can I interest you in another drink?” I try to break the ice as smoothly as I can, not wanting a repeat of what happened with the other two ambassadors.
“No, no, I couldn’ possibly accept!” He says, “This whole night’s to honour you after all! Lemme buy you somethin’, I have a personal debt to yer order after all!” At the mention of the spellslingers my blood runs cold, it seems I still have unwanted connections.
“Don’t… don’t mention it, sir.” I respond, trying to gently sway the conversation in a more pleasant direction. “I’d much rather take a drink in exchange for today’s efforts and not something somebody else did in the past.”
“Awright, fine then.” The dwarf answers, calling for another couple of beers, one for himself, me, and Xhyn. “I’ll never forget it, though,” he continues, “The way ‘e saved me when I was still a young’un m’self.” He smiles at me again, completely oblivious to the fact that this makes me visibly uncomfortable. “You lot’re a good buncha people, I wish there were more of ya around nowadays. Wha’ happened to all of ye anyway?”
I quickly down the entire drink that he’s bought me, watching out of the corner of my eye as he hands a few coppers to the servant and watches me with a concerned look on his face. “Uh, hey, not everyone can drink that much that quickly…” I didn’t care, anything to stop him from bringing it up.
“Anyway,” I say, wiping my mouth, “why’d you want to talk to us?” I’m rushing him now, and unfortunately it shows.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, a little startled by my sudden directness, “The royal family of Terrasco wants to invite you to the-”
“Yeah yeah,” I interrupt him, “Get to the point, hand me the invitation so I can get out of here.”
He looks irritated, annoyed by my disrespect towards him, “We don’t do written invitations in the south.” He claims, “Ya make yer way down ta Terrasco city yerself and tell ‘em Magna sent ya.”
“Great!” I exclaim, suddenly standing from my chair, knocking it to the floor, “Wonderful, even! Thank you very much, really, this was delightful.” I shake his hand roughly as I start to walk away, “Come on Xhyn! See ya Magna!” People stare at me as I leave the table, I don’t care, I need to get out, now.
“Hey!” Xhyn chases after me as I storm off, “What in the hells was that about? We’re meant to be making good first impressions on these people!”
“Nothing.” I mumble, hurriedly making my way to the last table, eager to leave already. I push my way through the crowd, my sights set on my last task before me. The ambassador from the north, Fulgyddia, waited patiently at the last table for us.
The man is a sylva, the same race as Hoolio… I think. This is a race of people descended from birds, they have large wings and hollow bones as well as humanoid arms and legs. This sylva is incredibly old, they wear round spectacles on the bridge of their beak, and the outer rim of their jet black feathers is greying. They readjust their glasses before smiling warmly to greet us.
“Heroes.” He says simply, his voice thin and warbly. “You did a good thing today,” He continues, sounding as though every word is an effort, “I wanted to find out why.”
This was different, my other feelings were set aside by my surprise. “We felt that we were the only ones up to the task.” I answer, sitting down, entertaining the old bird’s conversation.
He laughs a husky laugh as he struggles to hold eye contact, his eyes plagued by cataracts, surely rendering him almost blind. “The spirit of the youth, oh how I would love to be young again.” He takes my hand and holds it gently in his, “Angtal is… was a good friend of mine, the other ambassadors did their necessary business with them but I made sure to feel like a companion to them. It saddens me to hear of their capture.”
I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of guilt and sorrow for the old sylva, “I’m… sorry we couldn’t save them, we tried our best.” It was another one of my countless failures, but it stings as much as any other.
“Don’t be worried, my friend,” he says, passing something into my hand as he holds it, “There was nothing you could’ve done, and you all did something that no other dared to do. You tried.” His attempt to comfort me vaguely assuages my guilt, but there’s still a deep pit in my stomach, each failure hurts the people around me more and more.
He releases my hand and I turn it over to see what he has placed in my palm. In it, I find a silver disc of metal outlined in a pale yellow, the words “May knowledge be our wings” engraved into its rim. “You can call that a token of my gratitude.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, his smile widening at his own pun, “That coin will get you into the royal manor in the Fulgyddian capital, my thanks for trying to save my friend.”
I hold the token close to my heart before putting it in my pocket and looking back up to the man, “Thank you.” I reply, “I’m sure I’ll find this useful.”
The ambassador suddenly grabs me by the shoulders and speaks to me quietly, Xhyn has to lean in to hear our conversation. “This is very important, when you spoke to Angtal, did they mention anything about the future, any predictions?”
“There was one.” I whisper back, not wanting to spill any details that he might not want everyone around us to know. “They mentioned that in 5 years, the world’s going to end, and that it’d get rebuilt later. That was pretty much it.”
The sylva, surprisingly, leans back and sighs, almost relieved, “Thank the gods.” He says, bringing a hand to his forehead, sitting up right once more. “Sorry, I’m just glad they didn’t give you any details we didn’t already know. Yes, we knew.” He says in response the shocked expression on my face. “Very few individuals have knowledge of the ‘end of days’ prophecy. We tried to keep them from spreading panic, but it seems to have become too much for them and they told anybody who would listen.”
“But then…?” I wonder aloud, “Who else knows?”
“Each of the heads of the four nations and that’s it.” The ambassador answers, “Not a huge pool, just the people that need to know, nothing to be concerned about.”
“Nothing to be concerned about?” I ask, “The world is ending in 5 years, how can you not be concerned by that?!”
“Because we know that the world will be made again,” he smiles, “whoever obtains the aether will have the opportunity to remake things, to make them right, is that not an exciting prospect? Despite the fact that everything must be destroyed for it to happen, the idea of a perfect world is a nice thought regardless.”
This disconcerts me, but I guess it is for the best that nobody knows about this. The best it could do was bring about panic. “I understand.” I tell him, “I’m very sorry to leave you like this, but I have friends that I need to get back to, thank you again for your kindness.” I incline my head to him and he does the same as Xhyn and I walk away.
That was certainly an eventful evening, and 4 free tickets into the nation’s capitals were easily secured. Maybe I’ll actually take them up on it, if the rest of the group we’ve assembled decides to go. After all, they’re going to need somebody to protect them. Going back to the high table, everyone’s laughing and having a good time. Hoolio, unsurprisingly, now has a much heavier pack than he did when we first came in here.
I lay the gathered invitations on the table in front of me and say to the party, “Well, we’ve been invited.” They hover around, craning their necks to read the writing on the letters. “Those ambassadors none of you wanted to talk to? They wanted to give us entry into their respective nations, they’re interested in all of you.”
They all turn to look at me instead of the notes, confused, surprised, some of them even seem nervous. “All of them?” Hoolio asks, “Like, all of them?”
Saki laughs to herself, “He’s confused, but he’s right, I don’t see an invitation to Terrasco here, is it still in your pocket?”
“They ‘don’t do invitations’.” I say, putting my words in air quotes, “But rest assured, we’re allowed in.” I shoot a glance behind me to see the dwarf still drinking, I’m honestly a little impressed, anyone else’d be on the floor by now.
I take my place back at the table as the rest of the group starts to discuss these revelations. As I do, I notice that the waiters have taken my plate in my absence with the assumption that I wouldn’t come back. Gods damn it. I scrape together a meal from the leftovers that remain and start eating, uninterested in the others discussing what I’ve already thought over.
As the evening winds down, the guests start to leave one by one, Valefor leans over the table to speak to me on the way out, “The townspeople have given us the use of some rooms in an inn not far from here. You’re welcome to come and join us when you’re done.”
I wave him off and tell him goodnight, wanting to enjoy the silence for a little while. I look out across the empty hall and clean up a little while I’m here. The party was nice, but I tend to enjoy the quieter things in life. After I’ve decided I’ve had enough, I walk out the front door and see a figure crouched down in a nearby garden.
I hide myself and ready my rifle, slowly peeking my way around the corner until I see it’s just ‘Matchstick’. He has his back turned to me as I slowly approach. I watch as he takes off one of his gloves and holds his hand out towards a flower. The plant, of course, singes from his searing touch and he quickly recoils.
“What’re you doing there?” I ask him. He just about jumps out of his skin from the shock, his hair flaring up. He clutches a hand to his chest before taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.
“Nothing,” He finally answers, “Just looking at the garden, is that any of your business? Does it look like I’m doing something suspicious?” He asks, almost like he’s accusing me of accusing him.
“No, no.” I answer, putting my hands out in front of me in a placating gesture, “I’m only curious, that’s all. I don’t think we were formally introduced, you can call me Glue.” My hand in front of me turns sideways as I offer a handshake.
He refuses the handshake, leaving my hand waiting in the open air. Instead he crosses his arms and leans back, almost recoiling from me. “I don’t think names are particularly important.” He answers coolly, “Call me Matchstick like the little one if you have to. I don’t care.”
I hurriedly drop my hand and fumble around to find a pocket to stow it in. “So…” I try to think of something else to say, “Where’re you from?”
“None of your business.” He says, averting his eyes to look elsewhere at some point in the far off distance.
I scream frustratedly in my head. This guy really doesn’t make it easy to be his friend. “Okaayyyy, can’t talk to you about the past, that’s cool. What about the bandana?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He replies. It’s at this point I want to fall to the ground and pound my fists into the floor in anger, but I stay calm.
“Right, right, I get it, I cover my face too.” I say almost too quickly, hoping to salvage any sliver of conversation. “The garden, you like plants?” I ask the safest question I can possibly think of.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. They calm me down.” He slips his glove back on, flexing his hand a few times before starting to walk towards me, then past me. “I think it’s time for me to go now. You too. Goodnight.” He walks off towards the inn that we’ve been allowed to use and I trail far behind him, not wanting to awkwardly start any other interaction between us.
I enter the inn shortly after him, a clean enough space, the downstairs area acting as a common room for guests. There are high stools seated at a bar area, a few round wooden tables with chairs of the same material dotted around the space, and a couple of armchairs seated around a cosy fire that had gone out long before.
There’s a note on one of the tables with a key next to it directing me to my allocated room, picking it up with a faint jingling sound, I head upstairs. The steps creak under my weight, but they’re sturdy enough, and I find my room with no further issues. Unlocking the door I breathe a sigh of relief, quickly getting rid of my copious amount of clothing and heading to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, ensure that it’s locked, and put out my light. As I sink into the bathtub to rest, I think to myself that, surprisingly, this little patchwork party of ours isn’t too bad. I barely know them, sure, but they’re nice enough, and they seem to be genuinely good people. And yeah, they might be a little inexperienced, but that’s nothing I can’t fix. I could be friends with them, good friends. Maybe we could be as close as family.
Just like the good old days. Isn’t that right, kids?