Utopia is a word used to define the perfect homeland for its inhabitants; denoting peace, plenty, and prosperity. It is a place of endless luxury and comfort, lacking all strife or anxiety. Everyone has, and no one has not.

And thus, utopia is an impossibility. It cannot account for outside threats, nor can it account for the human element of chaos.

The simplest explanation of the cities carried on the backs of titanic snails is that they are each utopia. Undesirables are cast out, the vast majority of the populace is given the same minimum to survive and little else, and safety is provided by whatever mysterious presence the snails carry to keep away even the most aggressive of colossi in the world.

Like all collections of human beings in one place, there is a ruling class that does live in the closest true utopia there could ever be. And in the city resting on the snail whose trail Murtoa of Lakia’s party of monster slayers, a young woman -a sister- has been abducted.

Rarely, though, is any truth in a kingdom of lies as cut and dry.

“Do you know who took her?” asks Gyrryth to the young man and brother to the abducted woman.

This question alone distresses the young man, and he looks down. He nods. “Members of the Holy Church of the Spoken Realm…”

“Holy Order?” asks Maerin in surprise. The mature fairy looks up at the lizardman spellshot for confirmation.

This answer has soured Gyrryth’s mood for the request. “If she was conscripted, I’m sorry. We have not the authority-...”

“THEY have no authority!” pleads the young man. “We’re not at war! And, there’s no conscription orders out right now. They took her illegally, and I can prove it!”

Maerin scoffs, retorting as she digs out her flask, “I’m surprised you’re alive, then.”

Coco adds, “‘Either go, we be but monsty slayas. What we s’posed to do ‘gainst a bunch of goobed up zealtors?”

“I-... You’re with Mu-Murtoa of Lakia, aren’t you? I heard he’s travelling with a group like yours. I-Is he here?”

“He’s indisposed right now,” replies Maerin.

“Oh… I heard he’s a fearless knight… and when I heard that he was nearby…”

The girls glance at each other with amused expressions. Mury’s name and reputation are truthful, but they don’t exactly match the man in person. It’s not a problem for the three of them, but they share amusement at their own first impressions of him.

Maerin replies gently, “I understand what you hoped, but he’s a monster slayer, not a soldier for hire.”

“WE,” corrects Coco proudly with her small chest puffed out as much as she can. “‘Bando not but a stick-swinga wi’out me trusty tech!” She cackles warmly.

Lykha says to the young man, “Regardless of who, what do you think our group could do? We’re not enemies of the, uh, Spoken Realms, and we’d like to keep it that way.”

“Please! There’s no one else I can turn to! She didn’t do anything wrong, and they didn’t legally conscript her!”

Lykha looks at Gyrryth, and the big lizardman is quiet. His eyes shift to meet hers, though he remains silent a moment longer.

“There are… circumstances…” starts the spellshot hesitantly. “... where the Holy Order is… less honorable to their own laws.”

Coco retorts with a dismissive wave, “Bah! Tha’s careful-gab for they’s crooke’ as a spring caugh’ in’a toothwheel, i’n’it?”

Lykha murmurs dryly, “I don’t know which is more worrisome… That I’m starting to understand Coco, or that she picked that out of Gyrryth’s statement…”

The teenage techromancer puts her fists proudly on her hips, stating, “Who brainin’ me a dummy? Ye’re the ones gabbin’ easyspeak.”

Lykha smiles warmly. It’s not because she doesn’t take Coco seriously, but because she remembers what Mury had said; she makes up gibberish to feel smarter than everyone else. But, as she just said, that doesn’t mean she isn’t intelligent, surprising as it can be sometimes.

The younger fairy asks Gyrryth, “Hypothetically speaking, would there… be anything we could do?”

He looks at her again, still in thought. She suspects that, though he was Holy Order himself at one point, his exit was not so amicable. Or at least, the spellshot had his own faith shaken, driving him to a life in the wastelands hunting monsters.

He replies after a pause, “She’d likely be held in the church itself. Getting inside would not be very difficult. The Holy Order prides itself on its prowess in magic, rather than militarism. As such, they cultivate a welcoming environment within the church, and would not have a formal guard. It would be difficult for the girl to escape, but not so difficult to find her at least.”

Maerin facepalms gently, grumbling, “Please tell me we aren’t thinking of doing this…”

Lykha replies, “I think Mury would. If they are holding her illegally, and he thinks he could do something, he would.”

“And what do you think we could do? Can’t exactly use your new trick in there, or we’ll be tits deep in Holy Order clerics from every corner of the world.”

Gyrryth looks up like he just realized something. “Caring Brother, tell me, when did you leave your home?”

“R-Right after I knew she had been taken. A-A few days ago. I came to look-...”

Gyrryth grins, bearing sharp, predatory teeth. He states, “The church will be even more accessible.”

The girls glance at each other, but it quickly dawns on them what he means. Lykha’s spell. They’ll undoubtedly deploy some of their clerics to the location where Lykha used her forbidden spell.

Maerin murmurs, a little more serious about the conversation, “Okay, so, we get inside. Then what? What if they figure out who we are? Should we wait for our front-line fighter to return?”

Gyrryth shakes his head, “Time is not on our side. If we commit to this act…”

“We’re committed,” murmurs Lykha nervously.

Coco, with her arms crossed, grumbles, “If we set on doin’ the dumb for some girl, be’er now than tocks-by.”

“Why’s that?” asks the young fairy.

The more mature fairy teases coolly, “Coco is afraid she’ll become a rival, too.”

The teen’s cheeks fill with color, and she retorts sassily, “I am no’! Tricksie the only fire I got’sta lick!”

The young fairy giggles adoringly, which causes Coco’s cheeks to brighten. Lykha then says more seriously, though, “Gyrryth’s right though. If we’re all for it, I say we hurry. We won’t have a better opportunity, and hopefully, Gyrryth can talk us in and out of any trouble, if need be. I assume your reputation is still intact?”

He nods, “I burned no bridges, but the less interaction, the better.”

She nods in return, “We’ll try not to run into any of your friends.”

Coco states dryly, “Dunno how I’ll swing, but I’m on’ni’.”

Maerin adds as she sips her flask again, “I’m jus’ abou’ drunk enough. I’ll be ready by the time we ge’ there.”

Lykha coos, “You’d likely be more help sober…”

“Aye, bu’ sober me thinks this is a stupid idea to rescue some nobody.”

The young man retorts fiercely, “She’s not just anybody!” When they look at him, his fierceness softens, and he adds more calmly, “Sh-... She’s adopted, but she’s my sister. A-And together… I am the crown prince of the great city of Almunaicho… o-or, ‘Son of the Premier’, I guess… And my sister is the truly beloved princess.”

There’s a very, VERY awkward silence that befalls Mury’s group. Maerin is the first to break the awkwardness by stumbling to her feet, grumbling, “I’mm’a need my whole bottle…” She trudges towards the sand cruiser.

The remaining three glance at the alleged prince, and then at each other. Gyrryth states softly, “This tale spirals ever deeper into intriguing.”

Coco bluntly states, “Bes’ be meanin’ a hefty jingle for our trouble. Ou’side our special’s an’ all.”

Lykha retorts, “You’ve been a monster hunter for like a month. What specialty?”

“I’M A NATURAL, obviously!”

“Natural pain in the-...”

“Of course there will be pay! I guarantee it! I’m the only one who knows who actually took her, though, and I’m afraid to tell our parents, for fear the Holy Order truly will react as the Lady Fairy mentioned. But, with or without me, return my sister to the royal family, and they will reward you.”

Coco crosses her arms again, murmuring, “Rescuin’ an actual princess, huh? Definitely can’t wait for ‘Bando.”

Lykha nods, and she looks at Gyrryth. He nods as well. Maerin retorts as she drags her bottle through the sand, “I heard mention of money, so I’m in. Let’s get this over with.”

Lykha nods, and she looks at the young man. “Alright, we’ll help. Tell us everything you know.”

***********************************

Cities on the backs of colossal snails. The words make sense. A picture is easy to form in mind. But, until someone sees it, there are not enough words, nor with deep enough meaning, to truly put it into perspective.

Lykha, the young fairy, was born in a village with a lot of her fellow fairies, easily outnumbering the human towns she’s seen thus far. Their homes were built from nature itself; typically wood, leaves, and animal fur to create basic and cozy shelters, and their more communal buildings were either carved painstakingly into trees -in a manner that was not harmful to the titanic trees- or built of stone using magic. No matter what, though, nature was always present, and it felt comfortable.

The human and drakyk villages and towns scattered throughout the desert, which the fairy has become accustomed to now, are rather mundane and dreary, formed of mud bricks and occasionally metal plating, with the rare wooden door or shutters. For the most part, they were built with sweat and muscle, and little else.

On the far flip side, there are constructions that could only be explained by magic. These are the cities.

The sheer size of the snail itself is absolutely terrifying. The gryduke was the largest creature Lykha has seen by far, and she thought she was being eaten by an actual mountain. The snail, however, is visible from the horizon miles before they reach it, and even when they do, the head of the snail is still so far away, the heat waves of the desert make it hazy and virtually impossible to make out even beyond half way forward of the shell.

Its colossal size also makes it seem like it isn’t moving, which Gyrryth mentioned during the drive that they’re easy to catch up to because they only travel a few miles a day. Given that the snail is several miles wide, by appearances, Lykha can understand.

The shell isn’t particularly intricate or elegant, but it does seem shaped to be seemingly impossible to knock over. And, adorning the shell like a crown, almost, are gleaming points of light reflecting the sunlight of the clear sky. Titanic, synthetic rings of intricate stone-like material form foundations around the shell at lower latitudes, creating room for buildings that reach up above the top of the shell. There are 3 such rings, shrinking in circumference the higher up the shell they go, and virtually all of the upper half of the shell is obscured by synthetic metal alloys, intricate carved stone, glass, and lights. Compared to the fairy village and the desert towns, the city doesn’t even fit the era they’re in. Lykha had never envisioned the concept of futuristic, and would otherwise never know what that means. This city puts that beyond what she could expect.

Coco gawks as Gyrryth drives, “Th-... Tha’s… Goobs live on tha’!?”

The spellshot chuckles as the girls gawk together, while Maerin nurses a drink. Her outward demeanor suggests she’s not impressed, but it’s likely she’s never seen a city before either.

The older fairy states bluntly, “It’s kinda giving me a headache to look at. Who needs tha’ much glass?”

Lykha asks wondrously, “How did they build this?”

The lizardman replies plainly, “Magic, mostly. Wishes possibl-...” He trails off, and Lykha slumps a little. She doesn’t lose her full luster, though. The sacrifice one or more of her fellow fairies gave to create something like this just gives gravity to its majesty. Not just anyone could do this, and she resolves to at least appreciate the result, since it can’t be undone.

However, Gyrryth’s statement seems to trigger Maerin, but not about the wish itself. “That reminds me, Gyrryth.” She hovers up to him, straining a little as her worn wings struggle a little to lift her without magic. This doesn’t stop her, though, and she approaches his head, flat-hand chopping his nose, causing him to flinch and shake his head with a snort. She growls while pointing at him, “What were you thinking teaching Lykha spiritual magic anyways?”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The younger fairy gasps, quickly saying, “Maerin! Don’t blame him! It was my-...” The senior fairy hovers down to her younger counterpart and chops her on the head, which causes Lykha to yelp and clutch her head.

“All magic is dangerous, Lykha. Gyrryth faced decades of training before he could use spirit communion magic. It, more than most, has dangers you must be prepared for.”

“You think I don’t realize that?” whimpers Lykha as she nurses her head.

“Yes. The spirits have no repercussions for using you. Remember that. Coco. Roll down the window for us, please, and then switch with us. I’mm’a teach this dummy somethin’.”

Coco giggles, and nods, rolling the window of the passenger door down. She then scoots to the middle seat, and Gyrryth cautions, “Be mindful that we are approaching the city, Experienced One.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She pushes Lykha towards the window, saying, “This isn’t a board game. You don’t have a fixed number of spells. You have a magical stamina. When you want to punch, you don’t just stick your fist out. You rear back, and punch.” The mature fairy demonstrates a fairly -and a little surprisingly- good form for a punch. Given the force of her chop affecting even the big lizardman, Maerin has learned some means of self-defense after having lost her magic. Or, perhaps she picked up some things when she was adventuring as an alchemist.

She shoves Lykha rather forcefully to face the window, saying, “Alright. Focus on something out there. Doesn’t matter. You don’t have to have a target for basic spells. Focus more on your magic, like you’re about to summon your little spark, but… mmm… like you’re tensing your muscle, I guess. Clench your fist really, really tightly, that’s what it’s like.”

Lykha does her best to follow the instructions and tries to feel her magic. She’s been able to use it since she was a child, but she was never really given any guidance at all. Already, she can feel a swirling tingle as she holds back the spark spell, and it feels ready to burst out of her.

“Now, like you’re punching as hard as you can, shove it forward all at once!” Maerin punches, and Lykha strikes out her palm.

Startling the young fairy, a huge puff of fire bursts forward, and the large ember travels into the desert. She gasps in surprise, and Maerin laughs proudly, as Coco murmurs, “Whoa…”

The older fairy cheers, “That’a girl! Easy learner. I like it.” She takes a drink.

But, Lykha notices; “Th-... That felt like…”

“Yeah. Used a lot more of your energy, right? Drawbacks to everything. Gotta push yourself to get better though.” She pats her well-endowed chest, saying, “Takes time and effort to master anything.”

Lykha surprises Maerin when she hugs her, “Thank you so much, Maerin! Please! Please teach me more! H-How do I push myself?”

Maerin squirms a little nervously, but smiles sincerely. “Expend your energy to the point of hurting. Good place to start.”

Gyrryth cautions, “Perhaps just not today, though. We may need what spells you have remaining.”

Maerin shrugs, replying, “She’s got enough for a couple more of those, I wager.” She points at Lykha, though, “Being useless in a moment is not the same as being useless as a person. You should treat the spirits like blood magic. And last resorts should not be your first thought.”

The young fairy nods humbly, “I understand, truly. I just want to help, though.”

“I know.” Maerin chops Lykha’s head more gently this time. She states, “That kind of thinking will get your wish spent. Then you can’t help anymore.”

Coco cuts in this time, saying, “You foolin’, Mama-bae? We no’ kill the Solaghoul wi’out you an’ yer mixin’s.”

Maerin looks away, murmuring, “I didn’t mix anythin’ though.”

Lykha grins, “But, we still needed you, and you came through.”

The ladies all smile at each other, and Gyrryth declares, “We have arrived. We shall disembark here and walk the rest of the way.”

“We leavin’ the runna?” asks Coco with a hint of displeasure.

“Only for now. As long as we finish with haste, the snail should not make it too far away.” He pulls out a small amount of paint, though, painting a glyph on the dashboard of the cruiser. “That said, I shall ensure we can locate the cruiser.”

Maerin walks across the dash to inspect the glyph. “Ah, a custom locator glyph.”

Gyrryth explains, “We were trained to use these to mark targets, but…”

“Can be used on anything. I like it. May I?”

Gyrryth nods, “Please do.”

Lykha and Coco look over their shoulders as Maerin pulls out her notebook. She starts copying the glyph into her notebook with dexterous care. Coco asks, “A lick o’ paint s’posed to make it glow or somethin’?”

Gyrryth chuckles, “Something like that.”

Maerin adds, “The copy will glow like a compass when the inscription is read. Works both ways, too. The original will locate the copy if the inscription is read to the original.”

Lykha asks a little playfully, “Is this magic I’m allowed to learn?”

Maerin nods, “With caution, though. It’s an artform. Glyphs can also become dangerous.”

Coco whines, “This is why I hate tricks! Everythin’s wonkier than a monsty with a toothsting!”

Gyrryth blows on the paint to help it dry, climbing out of the cruiser to lock up the back. He then paints another glyph, and Lykha and Coco ask as they follow, “Another one?”

“This is a camouflage glyph. It will make the cruiser blend into the sand from a distance.”

Maerin adds, “You have to use the right element for that one. Paint a forest glyph in a desert, and you’re just paintin’ it tastier.”

Lykha nods, absorbing the knowledge as much as possible.

Prince Tomoba, the young man who hired them, jogs up from the snail itself, having parked the elegant sand-rail he used to travel to the desert town where he found them.

He says quietly, “I can’t thank you all enough… I couldn’t find anyone else…”

Gyrryth states, “Most hunters and mercenaries avoid cities. Little good comes from dealings with the cities.”

The prince nods solemnly, “I understand. It’s… not for everyone.”

Lykha and Coco turn to face the snail itself. This close, they can see the massive flesh of the snail creeping forward, but they can walk and catch up to it. They can also see familiar looking parasites blemishing the skin far away from them. When they look up, though, they can’t even see past half-way, and clouds seem to obscure the top of the snail. It’s truly stunning how big it is.

Coco murmurs, “Um… I-... I think I might wrench the runna…”

Gyrryth states gently, “Do not fret, Fiery One. It takes great effort to approach an edge from which to fall. You will hardly notice the height.”

She stares at him skeptically, and Maerin adds, “You won’t get paid if you don’t go up.”

This causes the teen to wince, and she glances at the mature fairy. She grumbles, “Tha’s… No’ a… Errmmm… Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Bu’ if monstys splash in again, I be glued to the sand e’er after!”

Maerin nods. “Monster shows here, we got bigger problems.”

The prince nods in agreement. “Almunaicho is one of the oldest cities standing. Our city defenses are well established and maintained.”

Coco and Lykha stare at him. “City… defenses?” murmus Lykha.

Gyrryth replies, “The cities survive by being prepared to defend against warfare, mainly. Most colossi avoid the Great Snails.”

Tomoba nods in agreement. “If you’re ready, we can head up. I’ll show you where she was taken from.”

The group nods in agreement.

***********************************

The City of Almunaicho is one of the oldest cities upon the back of one of the oldest colossal snails. Each layer of the city is more elegant and breathtaking than the one below it. Riding a magic-infused trolley from the ground up to the highest level, they pass through actual clouds into the sky.

Tomoba leads Mury’s party -minus Mury himself- to the ‘Premier’s mansion’, often nicknamed the ‘Palace’. Few give the travellers a second glance, in spite of their clothes standing out drastically against the mystical and futuristic outfits of the crowded denizens of the city. Even the lower levels were more clean and elegant than the desert-wanderers.

That said, there’s a quiet melancholy that sets an unease in the young forest-born fairy. Fairies are emotional and sociable. Most of the citizens of the city, though, have been quiet and ignored them.

Inside the Palace, Tomoba shows the four to his sister’s room, where she was apparently taken in her sleep. He’s careful not to mention who he believes took her while in the city.

As they look around, Gyrryth is careful about his wording as well. “Has the kidnapping been investigated already?”

Tomoba replies, “Of course, sir. The Premier’s family is a direct link to the Premier, and is taken very seriously.”

Maerin asks as she helps Gyrryth investigate the room with experience, “Anyone else smell that?”

Lykha inhales through her nose. She smells all kinds of unfamiliar scents. She smells incense from smoke throughout the Palace, water, meats cooking, metals she doesn’t know, dust and maybe a little mildew, some earthy smells like bark and leaves, and the acrid smell of the electrical equipment and factories throughout the city. It’s overwhelming to her sensitive nose, and disorienting trying to pick out any one.

Gyrryth states, “It’s been some time. I know not the scents out of place.”

Maerin follows her nose to a corner of the room, explaining, “I’ll tell you one.” Coco follows the mature fairy, who finds a small empty jar next to the dresser, where the princess has lots of similar jars. Tomoba explains, “Those are Maribel’s perfumes. One must have fallen.”

Maerin cautiously takes a smell of the mouth of the jar she found. She clacks her tongue, saying confidently, “Chloroform. Some kind of glycerine. Hmm… MMM… That’s it; fishiness. Must be tetrodotoxin.”

Coco asks, “Uh… What?” She takes the jar from the fairy to try to sniff it as well.

The mature fairy smirks at her, taking a drink from her flask to cleanse her palette. “Poisons. Mainly, in the right doses, great for incapacitating someone. The glycerine likely lets it be absorbed through the skin.”

Gyrryth approaches, taking the jar. “Mm, yes. Sickly-sweet. That explains one of the smells.”

“D-Do we need to be worried?” asks Lykha.

Maerin answers, “Nah. Probably broke down already, once exposed to air.” Lykha hovers close to the jar in Gyrryth’s hand, taking a sniff so she knows as well. She can’t pick out the different chemicals Maerin named, but she can smell the sickly-sweetness Gyrryth mentioned.

Maerin looks around, saying, “They wanted it to look like something else, I think.”

Gyrryth nods, “Most definitely. The question is, why take a second heir instead of the crown Prince?”

Coco murmurs nervously, “I know why I was grabbed by goobs…” She smiles at Lykha, “Until my hero came.”

Lykha blushes, squeaking, “Coco, I…”

“NOT YOU! ‘Bando!” The teen snarks sassily, “Tricksie thinkin’ she’ slicka than me ‘usbando.”

Maerin and Gyrryth chuckle as Lykha growls furiously in embarrassment, “OOOooooghhh! Coco!”

Gyrryth says more seriously, though, “The… culprits would not take her for such a simplistic reason, though. Such a high profile target has too many who would miss her. She likely represented a threat. Either physically, or politically.”

Prince Tomoba retorts, “Maribel is an iris. But… Why political? I agree. Why not me?”

“Iris?” asks Coco. She’s growing a little frustrated being somewhere where there are so many new words.

Lykha explains gently, “It’s a type of flower; beautiful and delicate.”

“How YOU know that?”

“I grew up in a forest, not the desert.”

“Forest?” Her eyes start to look a little watery.

Gyrryth derails the moment, saying, “We shall discuss that later.” He gestures towards the door.

Now, in addition to the Great Snails and the cities upon their backs, Lykha can now say that she has seen clerics of the Holy Order for the first time in her life.

She isn’t sure what she expected them to look like, but they’re quite easy to identify as being Holy Order thanks to the equipment bearing similar designs and markings to the void spellslingers Gyrryth has. Their outfits, however, make them look more like knights or paladins. Heavy armor buries their bodies in polished metal adorned with golden fabric on the outside. Ornate helmets hide their heads, and it’s almost difficult to tell the difference between the drakyks and the humans amid the group of three that are now standing at the door.

Both Gyrryth and Tomoba take much more upright postures, and Coco glances at them, doing her best to match. Lykha hovers close to the lizardman, while Maerin chugs the rest of her drink.

The lead cleric’s voice seems to slide out of his helmet like oil; smooth, soft, and deceptively fluid. “Prince Tomoba. We had heard that you had returned to the city. We have leads on the whereabouts of your sister.”

Tomoba bows politely, “I see. Thank you, Brother Phudre.”

Phudre, the lead cleric, looks to Gyrryth and the girls next. “I see you brought outsiders into the city. Did you not have faith in the Church, my Prince?”

“That could not be further from the truth, Brother Phudre. The kidnappers may come from beyond the city, and as such, I resolved I couldn’t sit and wait.”

“I understand, my Prince. Have your companions any preconceptions of this investigation?”

Lykha can feel the piercing gaze of the cleric pass across her, and it, combined with his voice, sends a chill up her spine.

Tomoba states, “Not at all, Brother Phudre. Our investigation has only just begun.”

“I see. May we all have your sister be found with haste, my Prince.”

The clerics bow politely, and they file out of the room quietly.

Maerin states with a tipsiness, “Tha’ wen’ better than I thunk. ‘Sume you noticed?” She looks up at the spellshot.

He states coldly and calmly, “We should continue our investigation at the next scene.”

The rest of the group is confused, excluding Maerin, but they follow his lead.

When Gyrryth is reasonably comfortable with their location outside of the palace, he asks Maerin, “What did you notice?”

Maerin hiccups, covering her mouth for a moment as she suppresses either a second one or a burp. She states when she can, “He said ‘prince’ about forty gerjillion times, bu’ he no say ‘princess’.” Her tone is arrogant and musical, but mainly only because of her trying to calm herself through drink.

The spellshot massages his chin, deep in thought. He murmurs, “You’re right.”

Lykha asks, “How did you notice that?”

Maerin waves her finger shakily, but instructively, “Ne’er underestimate the street. ‘S always listenin’. An’, wha’ you leave ou’ almos’ always more ‘portant than what you sa-sa-... speak.” She massages her temples, trying to clear her thoughts of the fog.

“So the gong’o’shine li’es him the balahies be’er than the machens. Still don’ tell us where the machen is.”

Lykha grumbles softly, “I wish Mury was here…”

Maerin replies to Coco, “Tells -hic!- tells us all dat metal probs too much turble for him to -hic!- take off for a lady!” She snickers deviously, and Coco grins.

Gyrryth states on mission, though, “It is probably time for us to attempt investigation of the church itself.”

Tomoba replies uneasily, “Will… Brother Phudre be a problem?”

The spellshot replies calmly, “Could be. But, he likely already suspects us. Abandoning the mission now would only solidify our death warrants.”

“W-Wait… Death warrants?” asks Lykha.

Both Gyrryth and Maerin look at her, and Maerin states bluntly, “Da heck you think woul’ happen inves’igatin’ the -hic!- Ho-Hol… the nnn… shinies?”

Truth be told, that aspect never crossed her mind. She was so focused on rescuing a kidnapped girl, she never considered any consequences. It seems obvious now, especially now that she’s seen a supposed ruler’s son all but grovelling politely to the leader of a cleric squad.

Gyrryth smiles, though, seemingly unbefitting of the situation. “Fortunately, we have a young, godless heathen who wishes to repent her ways and learn of the Church.” He looks at Coco.

The teenage techromancer flinches, asking defensively, “Why me!? They’s trick-spitting he-heeths’ens ta knock!”

The spellshot chuckles, but explains gently, “Indeed. But, unfortunately, fairies are… a special case. The church prefers they not associate themselves with the teachings. But, a human…”

Lykha flies up to him, whispering in his ear, “But… will Coco being… you know… affect that?”

“Long term? Yes. But, we shall not be here long term.”

After pondering a moment, Lykha nods. She faces Coco, asking tenderly, “Coco, will you?”

The teen huffs and puffs, waving her arms a few times in frustration. But, she grumbles as she crosses her arms, “Can’ne have gab ‘bout me bein’ ‘fraid. ‘Specials comin’ from a tricksie.”

Gyrryth nods. “Then, let us begin.”

***********************************