Dawn is quite often considered the beginning of a day, where beings of all shapes and sizes rise from slumber and begin whatever endeavors they need to pursue, from finding food and water to repairing and maintaining equipment, few can resist the first gentle kiss of the morning sunrise. Of course, in a thick forest of trees rising far into the sky, it’s easy to forget how bright the sun actually is. There is a distinct difference between nighttime and daytime within the great forest, but it is nowhere near as bright as the desert.

Regardless, dawn seems to call to everyone -at their own paces of course-, and Maerin exits the shower as she walks towards the back. He, too, has recently cleaned himself and is sorting gear in his bag.

Gyrryth is cleaning his spellbound firearms, ensuring they are still properly intact and useable should he need to. He also will check over his vest’s many holsters, ensuring his pistols are present when he needs to draw.

Maerin yawns, asking warmly, “Just you two?”

Mury replies calmly, “Lykha’s still asleep, and Coco is on the roof.”

Maerin narrows her eyes, asking, “Alone?”

The human warrior nods, not seeming to see a problem with that. Maerin grumbles, “A forest full of crazy kidnapper fairies, monsters, and dangers she’s never seen, and you left her out there alone?”

Metallic clunks come from above, indicating whatever work Coco is doing. Mury points, replying innocently, “We can hear her.”

“So? What if she falls? What if she gets snatched by that… peace… piss… whatever that giant bug thing was called!?”

“The torpesinect?” asks Gyrryth.

“I think she means the Paestokker,” replies Murtoa of Lakia.

“EITHER ONE!” snaps Maerin. She quickly catches herself, remembering they just said Lykha was still asleep. It’s been a few days since the adventure, but Lykha is and will likely always be the heaviest sleeper among them. Given that she’s a rather novice magic-user, it’s understandable, so that she can recover both her physical and spiritual stamina.

Murtoa replies, “Paestokkers are fairly rare. I wouldn’t expect to see another one so soon. And, torpesinects are extremely noisy, especially in the forest.”

“SO!? Is that any excuse to leave a teen girl outside all by herself?”

Murtoa is silent for a moment. Though, once upon a time, he told everyone that he’s not responsible for them, more than once he’s proven that he’s come to care about the team, from facing the dragon-thing and the paladins, to simply asking Maerin to join them -and then rescuing her from a tribe of wishless fairies just like her-. Maybe Mury has some deep-seated feeling of ‘no one left behind’ mentality from his youthful days as a soldier, but he’s not heartless. He rises to his feet, saying as he walks, “She insisted she wouldn’t need help right now.”

The fairy walks alongside him, still drying her hair with her towel. “She was probably afraid you’d drag her into a bath again. Speaking of…”

“We’ll give her a chance. Maintenance is messy w-...”

“LOOK OUT!” calls out a young teen’s voice mere moments before a dark, viscous liquid dumps on both Mury and Maerin from above as they’re exiting the vehicle. A bucket clangs on the hull of the trunk winder, but it doesn’t fall.

Murtoa and Maerin stand frozen for a long moment as they process what just happened. They’ve both been soaked in foul-smelling fluid. They slowly glance at each other, and then up at the roof of the vehicle, where a teenage techromancer with cutely-curled horns mostly-hidden by her hair and a broad-brimmed sun-hat-like helmet is staring down at them.

Maerin’s blood pressure ticks upwards at the sight of the teen’s face.

Painted on the hardworking teen’s face is a smug smirk with her arms crossed like she’s queen of a castle and master of all the fates of those beneath her.

“Sorry, Loves. Jus’ returnin’ the fava splishin’ ye’ down ‘gainst yer wits.”

Maerin huffs angrily, “OOOOooooo! COCO! YOU THRAX-SPLICKING LITTLE…!” Maerin drops her towel to dart into the air towards Coco, but she stops at about Mury’s chest level. She growls to the human warrior, “Murmur, give me your sword.”

Mury replies softly, “A sword is unnecessary.”

Coco taunts from above, “Wha’s wrong, Bae? Din’ne’ye say, ‘all thin’s considered, no’ so bad, ey’? Now ye can take anotha of yer splishes ye love so much!” She snickers.

The human warrior surprises Maerin when he says, “Use this instead.” He shakes up and presents a bottle familiar to all of them at this point; a bottle of lightly colored liquid that foams upon shaking. Coco grimaces, and Maerin grins. He hands the bottle to the fairy, and she darts up after Coco, who screams and scrambles away.

Maerin shouts, “Get back here you little brat! I’ll teach you!” Coco tries to defend herself by splashing more of the dirty water towards Maerin, but the fairy is already contaminated. She’s not easily deterred as she hovers above Coco to splash the soapy water on Coco.

The teen scrambles down the side of the trunk winder, desperately avoiding the splashes as she hops to the ground and darts away from the fairy. She shouts, “Traita! You started it!”

Maerin retorts, “Aye! And I’m going to finish it!”

Maerin starts panting, clearly running out of steam, but not before Coco nearly slips and trips several times on roots, the dirt, and parts of the vehicle as she tries to keep away from the fairy.

Fortunately, both of them are in good spirits about the whole thing, meaning Mury’s intervention likely won’t be required.

That is, until Coco trips as she tries to jog backwards away from Maerin.

The human warrior is close enough, diving to the ground with his hand out. He manages to catch Coco’s head with a metallic clunk. She stares upwards in surprise for a moment as Maerin darts over her, asking quickly, “Are you okay!?”

Murtoa listens for a moment, and Coco scrambles off of him. “Mury!?”

He replies, “I’m fine.” She checks his arm, but his armor’s bracer caught the metal corner of the trunk winder’s edge, protecting his forearm even with the added leverage of Coco’s weight. Coco says softly, “Thanks, Love…”

He nods, climbing back to his feet. “You okay?”

She smiles sheepishly, “Aye.” He picks her helmet back up, handing it back to her. “Good. Mind the tree roots. They’re comparatively hard.”

She nods as she accepts her helmet. “Aye, Love. Sorry.”

Maerin hovers near them both, replying gently, “Will you please bathe on your own for once, Coco?”

The teen looks away, murmuring, “Fine…”

Maerin sighs. “Please do.” She then says in a cold tone, “Guess I’ll go wash now… You’re welcome to join me.”

Murtoa replies, “Go ahead. I should do a perimeter check anyways.”

Maerin laughs, saying, “That was meant for Coco, but I’m glad you thought of me.” She snickers playfully.

Murtoa stares down at her, and Coco crosses her arms. “I say I will, so I will. I don’ne need ye ta splish me.”

Maerin mercilessly teases, “Perhaps you’d be more excited if Murmur joined you, then, hm?” Maerin snickers as she walks back into the trunk winder. Coco’s cheeks fill with color, and she yells, “EY! Tha’s…! She’s… Love, ‘s no’ li’e I do’ne wan’ta… J-Jus’...”

Murtoa scoffs, saying as he also walks back inside to continue his work, “You can take your turn after Maerin. I’ll go last.”

Coco fidgets, nodding. “Aye, Love. I-I will.”

Just as he’s picking up his sword, Coco steps into the bay, “M-Mury?”

He and Gyrryth both look at her, a little surprised. Mury asks, “What is it?”

“How…?” She fidgets with her hands, asking softly, “How… di’ye… How di’ you… sto’...” She swallows. “I… I want to ‘dult li’e… li’e ye an’ Maerin… B-But…”

“Dult?” asks Gyrryth, confused.

Murtoa only glances over his shoulder at the lizardman. He says softly, “Adult.”

Gyrryth realizes what she’s saying and how, and he nods gently.

Mury looks at the young teen, saying sincerely, “There’s no rush to grow up. No one is asking you to.”

“I know tha’! An’ I woul’ne if-...” She halts, stopping herself from spiralling into an unnecessarily defiant tangent. “I want to. I want to… grow up now.”

Gyrryth asks gently, “Everything okay, Fiery one?”

She nods, explaining softly, “All me life, since me da’ and me ma’... I ha’ta protect meself. A-And when we bundled up… I was… ‘fraid ye woul’ leave me, too… B-...” She sniffles, murmuring softly, “I… I want to rely on you… I… I want to grow up… I want…” She starts crying.

Murtoa hesitates a moment, but he can hear Gyrryth stir briefly -probably looking at him-.

The unorthodox warrior walks calmly to Coco, kneeling in front of her. She instantly drops to her knees and hugs him, sobbing into his shoulder -ignoring the muck he’s still damp with-. The warrior gently wraps his arms around her, and he says quietly, “You… probably realize… I walked a very similar path, particularly after the Army.”

She nods, still hugging him. He adds gently, “Growing up usually happens on its own, mostly out of necessity. Whether you know it or not, you’re already growing up.”

She chokes out, “T-T-Teach me t-ta gab proper. T-Ta… n-not feel… so…”

“You’re not stupid. I discovered rivers the first time when I fell in. Almost drowned. I’ve seen the rash beyond the point of recovery. I’ve almost been eaten by more creatures on this planet than I care to count. None of us are trying to hurt you. We’re teaching you so you don’t have to learn the hard way. And, admittedly, having fun at it. That embarrassment you feel… It helps. I promise.”

She hugs him tighter, crying even more.

Gyrryth adds softly, “Indeed, Fiery one. When the Holy Order is training us, much of it is done with instructors insulting and harassing us. Defiant pride is the enemy of military order. Cultivating humility is… a process. A very quick way to mature, though.”

Coco nods, sniffling. “P-Please continue… t-ta teach me. A-And… A-Apologies… f-for… me hard gab…”

Gyrryth chuckles, “No worries, Dear Coco. Once one has an ear for it, it is not difficult to understand.”

She grips Mury’s shirt, saying nothing.

However, the warrior doesn’t miss a detail. He says softly to her, “I can only speak fully for myself, but your personality is not a problem. It’s what makes you Coco.”

Again, Coco’s brave face falters, and she hugs Mury firmly once more, descending into crying again.

Gyrryth murmurs softly, “I see… I apologize I didn’t understand.”

“N-No, G-Gyrryth… I… I’m grateful… y-you… p-put up with me…” She sniffles.

He smirks. “And, I am grateful you put up with me.” He shoves one of his spelldusters into his vest’s holster, beginning to clean another. “An advantage to adventuring with companions; we all put up with each other.”

The teen nods, calming herself down over a few minutes. She finally catches her breath and relaxes from Mury’s shoulder, sniffling. She murmurs, “D-Don’ t-t-tell the Tricksies… Th-They worry too much.”

Both Mury and Gyrryth chuckle, and they nod. Gyrryth looks subtly towards the next compartment, winking when Coco’s focus is on Murtoa. The two fairies standing there listening smile softly.

Mury says calmly, “Walk with me for the perimeter check. It'll be good to learn if ever Gyrryth or I aren't with you."

Coco nods. "Aye-... I agree, Mury."

The human warrior chuckles and nods. He picks up his pair of swords, buckling the belt on. Coco picks up a big wrench, smiling at him even as she has a residual sniffle.

Once the two exit the vehicle, Maerin and Lykha step into the troop bay, and the younger fairy remarks, "I see I missed an eventful morning."

Gyrryth chuckles, joking, "Indeed. It seems one of the spirits has possessed Coco next."

Maerin says softly, "I had no idea she was thinking such things… I always thought she was just Coco, and that's all she'll ever be."

Lykha smiles as she watches from a subtle spot while Mury points out parts of the forest around them. "Don't be ridiculous. Coco was always growing up, but she'll always be Coco, too."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Gyrryth nods in agreement. "It seems you've grown quite a bit as well, Gentle One, since we first met."

Lykha blushes, and Maerin states, "Just in time to go home an experienced fairy, too."

Lykha's expression widens. It dawns on her once more how truly close they are to her home. And, most importantly, it's not a dream.

Lykha smiles tenderly, "I can't wait to introduce everyone."

Gyrryth and Maerin both share a silent, subtle glance when the young fairy looks at Coco and Murtoa once more. Neither of them say anything for now.

***

The tracks of the trunk winder rattle and squeak. It’s terribly noisy. The air tastes of metal and smoke, and Murtoa and Coco both smell of ash and soot.

Gruicelle -currently inhabiting the body of Lykha- kneels in the windshield of the vehicle as it rattles forward, driven by the human warrior. She sighs, grumbling, “This is boring. I want to go on an adventure.”

Maerin retorts from one of the passenger seats, “You’re on an adventure. It never ends.”

“Ugh! But, this is so boring! Niolsynnys got to fight a dragon, and-” Her -Lykha’s- body shivers, and a voice fills her head, Mury said it wasn’t a dragon! A-Ask him if it was actually a dragon! I-I have to-...

Before Gruicelle could decide either way what to say or do next, Murtoa’s voice says calmly and stoically, “It wasn’t a dragon. I promise I’ll tell you when something is, Lykha.”

The panic resides, and Gruicelle sighs. “AND, Merzianne got to fight that… hydra thing.”

Coco retorts, “Aye, but no’ like we had our pick’o’the monsties. We did’ne get even a single jingle from the spicklehead.”

Gyrryth jokes, “That’s not true. Sir Mury was given a sword.”

“Aye! In exchange for a trick-dagga more jingle-worthy.”

Mury states plainly, “Magic dagger.”

Coco perks up, correcting, “Aye! Magic dagger.”

The unorthodox knight then says, “It wasn’t much more useful than a knife to us. Lady Gruicelle, you accepted Lykha’s contract. Danger was not a contractual requirement.”

She sighs. “Can we at least go outside? I feel like my entire day is being wasted here.”

Murtoa nods, “We will. There’s a river just up ahead.”

Maerin asks skeptically, “And, how do you know that?”

He replies with only a glance at the mature fairy, “It’s the same river we were navigating with before, when you were taken. We didn’t return directly to it because it was unnecessary, but the trees are getting wider.”

Coco nods, leaning on his shoulder as she looks at the trees. Even the smallest adult trees of the forest dwarf the mechanical caterpillar-like vehicle like an ant to a desert palm. The teenage techromancer remarks, “I see it. Big trees mean big wata, ey? Hear that stickwall? Coco’s learnin’ ye. Techromanca, stickmanca, monsty slaya! Tell Tricksie I’m fixin’ ta be the whole bundle’o’perfection.” She points at Gruicelle with a devilish grin, laughing boisterously.

The spirit crosses her arms, retorting dryly, “Did you ever wonder why Sir Murtoa of Lakia is unattached, Coco? If three of his four other party members are infatuated with him, would there not be others throughout the world who might’ve already propositioned him?”

Coco stares at her dumbly, unable to process the thought. Maerin, halfway through a sip, nearly chokes on her drink. She retorts, “I’m not infatuated with Murmur! True, I may be fond of him, but I don’t consider meself beneficial wifely material.”

Murtoa stops the trunkwinder, saying somewhat curtly, “Enough. We’re here.” He stands up abruptly, saying as he walks out of the cockpit, “Putting each other or yourselves down is pointless.” He adds more audibly, “Coco, let’s go. We need to establish a perimeter.”

She jumps into step behind him, saying proudly, “Aye, Love!”

Gyrryth stretches before standing up from his seat. “I shall refill our water reserves.”

Maerin says dryly, “I’ll make some more soap and mold killer. I think I’m getting low.”

Gyrryth nods, and Gruicelle asks, “What should I do?”

Maerin shrugs, “Follow Murmur and Coco? A magic user’s most important task in a party like ours is to have magic ready when we need it. You asked to see outside, they’re going outside.”

Gruicelle nods, hovering after the human warrior and the teen techromancer. She spins in a slow circle as she looks in every direction in awe. Seeing everything from inside the trunk winder was one thing, but seeing it completely freely all around her, and how it dwarfs the vehicle, is breathtaking. She murmurs softly, “I… I’d… I’d forgotten…”

Coco calls out, “Oy! Zinglebrain! If ye goin’ta pathja-... Um… follow us, don’ get a wide drift.”

Gruicelle darts closer to Coco, saying brightly, “Sorry! I was just admiring the view.”

“Aye! Boggle’o’tricks cave we in. Mmm… Mury?”

The unorthodox knight chuckles, “Mind trick. Illusions.”

“Aye! Illusion cave we be lost in.”

Murtoa replies as he inspects the paths leading to and from the clearing, “Sometimes called a ‘forest’. And, we’re not currently lost.”

“No?” asks Coco, surprised. Gruicelle giggles, and Mury replies, “No. Landmarks like the river make good navigating tools. As long as we keep a mental note of where the river is, we can maintain some sense of direction.”

“Ahhh! Yes, mighty fine brain food, Love. Where does the river start?”

Mury replies, “I’ve never been to the head of the river.”

“Rivers have heads? It be actual tears!? Monstie tears!?”

Mury and Gruicelle chuckle, and he replies, “No. Usually, smaller streams come together to form a larger creek, multiple creeks into small rivers, and small rivers into this one.” Just as Coco is about to ask, he satisfies the building question with, “Rain.”

“All that water falls from the sky!?” She stares once more at the deadly and mysterious body of water lazily crawling by. Mury replies sincerely, “Mostly.”

Gruicelle hovers close to Coco asking deviously, “Have you ever seen where it flows to?”

Coco shakes her head with wide eyes. Gruicelle answers deviously, “I’m kinda stealing Merzi’s thunder here, but… Imagine the river, but as far as you can see, like the sands of the desert, but water.”

The teen recoils in shock, retorting, “No! Tha’s… No boggle so sparkle be foolin’ me!” She looks at Mury, but he nods.

Coco spins in a circle in shock, trying to envision it. Gruicelle hovers over her shoulder, whispering teasingly, “Blue. Blue as far as you can see. Like an oasis that never ends.”

The teen whirls and grips Mury’s shirt’s chest, saying with a determined and an obsessed look in her eye, “We have to go, Mury. Right now.”

“It’s not drinkable.”

“What…?” asks the techromancer coldly.

“It’s contaminated with high amounts of salt. Deadly to drink. Also, colossi are not a land-only aberration.”

“We could goob ‘em up good. C-... Can we go? S-Someday, at least?”

Mury nods. “If I survive that long, sure.”

“Oi! Don’ ye be gabbin’ like yer allowed to go toes stiff ‘fore we married and see this big water.”

Murtoa scoffs. “Alright. Maybe we’ll head there after we reach the mythic hammock.”

“The who in the what now?”

Gruicelle asks, “Yeah, the who in the what?” She notices her -Lykha’s- heart racing, and Lykha’s voice murmurs, He must mean the base of the tree that my village is on.

Mury replies, confirming this suspicion, “It’s the entrance to the fairy territory. Of course, nothing is easy when magic is involved.” He points at a particularly dark and overgrown portion of the forest, “Coco, Lykha, be mindful of shaded areas like that. The contrast of light and dark can make it extremely difficult to see lurkers. Don’t pass over it.”

Gruicelle crosses her arms, growling, “You know I'm in her body currently."

"Don't be ridiculous. I know she's also listening."

The spirit nods as Lykha laughs. Her voice says in Gruicelle's mind, He's right. Quite intently, in fact.

Gruicelle asks sassily, "Wouldn't it be easier if I just did this?" She slings her right hand as if throwing something, and a bright ball of light darts into the shadows.

Suddenly, a ton of figures are illuminated, recoiling briefly at the sudden illumination. Gruicelle and Coco both yelp, shrinking behind Mury as he grips the pommel of Zaermaa. The creatures appear to be some sort of mammal, similar in size to coyotes or wolves, but with the body structure of raccoons or somewhat like a weasel. They hiss and squeal at the sudden illumination of their position, but they retreat into the shadows of the forest.

Coco asks, “What the goobry is tha’!?”

Mury replies calmly, relaxing from his grip, “I’ve met people who call them ‘blaze pandas’ or ‘flash weasels’.”

“Why’s that?” asks Coco innocently.

Mury looks at her, scratching his chin. “Supposedly, the salts in their sweat, which dyes their fur the dark violet color, is similar to black powder.”

The teen’s jaw drops, and Gruicelle asks, “Like bombs?”

The unorthodox knight nods, adding, “Villages highly dislike them because they’re foragers, and if they hit a powerline, they can burn down a home in a matter of minutes.”

Coco says deviously, “We shoul’ nab one and keep it drippin’ free blasts.”

Gruicelle asks dryly, “Did you not just hear him? They’d blow your vehicle up.”

“Aye! But, no’ if we keep ‘im tidy.”

Mury asks her, “You ever had a pet before, Coco?”

“No…?” replies the girl with a questioning inflection.

“A lot of upkeep. More probably than the vehicles. But, do what you want. I’m not taking care of it.”

Coco stares at the shadows ahead, thinking.

Gruicelle offers, “I’ll help you catch one, Coco.”

The teen and Mury both look at the spirit, and she shrugs. “What? It’s probably the closest thing to excitement I’m going to get.”

Mury replies, “Don’t get eaten. I’ll finish the perimeter check.” Just as Coco turns to Gruicelle to say excitedly, “Okay-...”, Mury adds, “Question; how do you plan to harvest their sweat and then make it usable?”

Coco and Gruicelle look at each other, and they both slump. They follow the human warrior when it becomes clear the plan isn’t as sound as it seemed. Mury kneels a little later, inspecting the ground, and Coco crouches next to him, asking, “What we lookin’ at?”

Gruicelle hovers over their shoulders, and the warrior explains, “Footprints. About the right size to be the blaze pandas. Knowing what lives in the area can make it easier to stay alive. It can also tell you when something worse is coming.”

Coco traces the footprint with her hand gingerly, asking, “How’s tha’, Love?” She looks up at Mury, and he replies, “When they run, we might want to run, too.”

Gruicelle teases, “You? Run? There aren’t many ‘Murtoa of Lakia’ stories like that.”

The warrior of legend scoffs, replying, “Contrary to popular belief, I do not kill every creature I come across. If I don’t have the equipment to kill a colossus, no point trying to fight it. Especially if no one is in imminent danger from it.”

The spirit replies, “I suppose that makes sense. Probably not too many would tell such a story, anyways. Kinda boring. Like this adventure.”

Coco retorts a little sourly, “Well, not to put thinks in yer th-... brain, but Bogglesly created her own when she got Maerin goobnapped by trickless tricksies.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not trying to do anything TOO dangerous. But… a little excitement would be nice.”

The human warrior sighs. “Blaze panda sweat isn’t very easy to make into explosives, but their fur is good fire starter. Plus,... we do have Maerin.”

Coco perks up. “We can nab one!?”

“You can try. Lady Gruicelle, I trust you won’t let anything happen to Coco?”

Gruicelle smiles, “Of course not. I’m not Schieranna.” She grins deviously, and Lykha’s voice murmurs, Ooo… Sh-... That one stung. Can spirits hurt each other?

The spirit inhabiting Lykha’s body snickers, and she says brightly, “Come on, Coco! Let’s go. We’ll need a net or a rope or something.”

The teen jumps into step with the spirit hovering at her shoulder, “Aye! I’mm’a nab the bigge’, fatte’ one!”

***

Murtoa approaches Gyrryth as he’s closing down the main fill valves after having replenished the trunk winder’s water tanks. The lizardman spellshot greets him warmly, as always, “Ah, Sir Murtoa. I trust our perimeter is secure.”

Mury nods. “I have a favor to ask.”

“A favor? Of course, my friend. Is there a threat lurking near?”

“Not a serious one. Coco and Gruicelle are going to try to catch a blaze panda.”

“Ahhh! Blaze panda, you say!? The spirits are gracious! I haven’t had blaze panda in quite a few years.”

The unorthodox knight chuckles, replying, “I didn’t have the heart to tell them blaze pandas are edible. Did you ever go through the Executioner regimen, by chance?”

“I am afraid not. And, I am afraid I do not follow. Executioners are assassins.”

Mury nods. “But, before that, they’re trackers and stalkers. If you could, I’d like you to shadow them. I’d prefer no repeat of last time. With your ranged weapons, you could help them without staying too close for them to notice.”

“Ahh… I see. While I am not an executioner-trained spellshot, I have hunted even some of the most attentive wild prey. I am confident I can keep them safe while letting them have their fun.” He chuckles, adding, “And, perhaps, I can catch one of my own.” He grins a big, toothy grin.

Murtoa chuckles, replying, “I’m not expecting them to be successful. They’d have to have a young one fall into their laps just to be able to keep it. Fortunately, they’re not as aggressive as their smaller relatives.”

“Indeed. I shall hunt our companions, Coco and Gruicelle, and ensure they do not stray into danger.”

Mury nods. “Thanks. If I need anything, I’ll blare the trunk winder’s air horns.”

“Agreed. I believe Lady Maerin is in the second compartment. I was going to check on her, if you would on my behalf.”

“Consider it done.”

The two part ways, and Murtoa heads into the trunk winder, searching for the wishless fairy.

Just as Gyrryth suspected, she’s in the compartment directly behind the cockpit of the multi-section vehicle, mixing chemicals in test tubes and flasks that stand almost as tall as her. She notices him entering, but keeps her focus on her work. Murtoa asks, “Need a hand with anything?”

“Not at the moment, thanks. Just mixing. Easiest job in the party.”

Mury says nothing, standing by to observe for a moment. She pours a pink liquid slowly into a clear one, and the mixture fizzes a little. While she does so, and just before the human warrior leaves, she says, “Hey…”

“What is it?” asks Mury gently.

“Why did you say that earlier?”

“Say what?” He stares at her with genuine confusion apparent in his voice.

“When you stopped the conversation Gruicelle started. A-About…”

His tone chills slightly, and he replies just as curtly as then, “Please drop it.”

This only seems to intrigue Maerin more, and she looks at him, “See, that’s it. You’ve NEVER been so curt about anything. You’re as blunt as a stone sometimes, but never curt. Is… Does it bother you… that people… grow attached to you?” She chooses her words deliberately, trying to blur the intent from what she’s really asking.

Mury is silent for a long time, prompting her to ask, “Murmur?”

Murtoa sighs. “Life is… simpler… when there’s a monster in front of me. If I know how to kill it, I make a plan and do so. If I don’t know how to kill it, I make a plan and do my best. Kill or be killed. That’s it. With people, it’s complicated. Emotions and logic and morals. I will die on my journey, mission accomplished if I’m lucky, though I’m not holding my breath. But…” He looks directly at Maerin, and she can almost feel his gaze. “A person should always know their limits, but they should never discourage themselves. I understand teasing and joking, but I… It bothers me… when people insult each other and themselves. We’re all alive. And, we’re surrounded by monsters. If we don’t pursue what we want, then… well…” He looks down, and Maerin makes the connection.

“We end up drunk in an alleyway all alone…” murmurs the fairy.

Murtoa nods with, “That is but a single option.”

Maerin replies gingerly, “I’m sorry. I had no idea it bothered you… I’m insecure, I won’t lie about that. But…” She trails off.

“I’m not saying you have to be silent. But,... I would like for everyone to be focused on the path ahead, rather than floating in present miseries. It’s easy to drown.”

She nods. “I understand. F-... For what it’s worth, I like myself a lot better since joining you.”

He nods. “I’ll leave you to your work. Thank you, Maerin.” Just as he’s turning to leave, he stops himself. He adds distantly, “I… It hurts… because…” He goes silent for a long time. Maerin watches him, and he finally adds with a partial look over his shoulder, “The man standing before you has no idea why people all over the world know his name. Or… I know ‘why’, but…” He looks at Maerin, adding, “There are likely as many people who want me dead as praise my name. Possibly more. I focus on killing colossi. Until a knife in the back or a tooth to the chest finally does me in.”

Maerin senses there’s something else he’s leaving out, but she’s not quite sure what. Regardless, Mury shared a rather surprising detail with her that he presumably doesn’t share very easily, though Maerin is aware she didn’t really have to pry all that much. Perhaps that’s why he told her all that he did; so that she doesn’t pry to the root of what bothers him. Maybe someday, she’ll find out.

However, Maerin realizes something else she should address while she has him alone. “Murmur?”

“Hmm?”

“Does… Lykha know… none of the rest of us can enter her village?”

“I’m sure she…” Maerin’s eyes narrow, causing Mury to halt. He thinks back on some of the things the young fairy has said. “Maybe… she believes she can convince friends of hers…”

“She thinks we’re driving straight into the village, and she’ll have a princess’s return.”

Mury is silent once more, and Maerin sighs.

“Well? Do you have a plan to tell her?”

***