Captain Thomas Bellacort de la Fortain stalked across the deck of his lead ship, the Cutthroat in a fury. This priest paid for all three of his ships, it was true, but to claim his own private quarters on his own ship was not in the deal. Fortain shoved open the door to find the Vaticine priest and his companion hunched over the table, going over his maps.

"No offense meant, your grace," Fortain began, trying to sound as calm and non-confrontational as he could. There had already been blood letting, and he was not looking to see more spilled. "You have chartered passage of course, but these are still my ships."

"Of course, me Capitan," the priest said in a flat and even tone, never bothering to look up from the table. "Why would you think I would believe otherwise?"

"Well," stammered Fortain, his rage rapidly deflating under the man's calm, emotionless tone and dismissive posture. "This be my private quarters you have set yourself up in. I do have a cabin set up for you and your… lady friend." Fortain nearly choked out the last two words as the woman in Vaticine vestments looked up and stared at him, or through him he wasn't sure, over top of the white silk veil that covered all but her eyes so pale they were nearly white. "And… and you gave word to set sail, before I had. And your lady here killed one of my crew. I won't have such, disorder on my ships!" His anger was returning, with more confidence now that he was airing his grievances.

The priest only now looked up at the man. "I am dreadfully sorry Captain, but the quarters below were too small for our needs. And as you were otherwise detained prior to departure I had to take it upon myself to acquire better accommodations. And as we are in a hurry to make Prevoye to finalize the purchase of Williamson's journal to begin our expedition, I had words with your bosun about leaving as soon as possible. Finally as to the unfortunate passing of your crewman, it seems he got a little too… friendly with my lady friend. Sister Mary Rose does take her vows VERY seriously."

Fortain glanced at the prayer beads wrapped around her hands she kept clasped in front of her. At the inch wide Crescent shaped razor blade dangling from the end of it, the blade that still had Delaney's blood on it. No one actually saw it happen, just his body hanging upside down from the rigging, his throat cut. And what will haunt Fortain to his dying day, he was castrated and the missing member was shoved in his mouth.

"It is however fortuitous, my dear Captain, that you found us." The priest continued, as if the previous conversation hadn't taken place. "I was familiarizing myself with your charts and I see you haven't done much sailing in the north, not much farther than the town of Costa, where I chartered your services. You had given me the impression that you could take me anywhere I needed to go. I need to know your vessels can handle sailing further north, particularly the Allfather ice flows.

"My ships can sail anywhere there is water." Said Fortain, defiantly.

"Ah but that's just it, Captain." The priest continued, "I've been in the north for ten years of my service to the church. I know there is more than water in the flows. I have heard the locals tell hundreds of stories of the ice crushing boats to kindling. So I ask again, can your ship handle the ice?"

"We can pick up an ice plow for the lead ship when we make port in Prevoye, then we will be fine in the flows." He told the priest bluntly, although inside he was panicking. The priest didn't mention sailing straight into the flows, it was suicide. He assumed this treasure the man was after was on some tropical isle. Fortain was liking this contract less and less.

"Good." Snapped the priest, "then that is all Captain, good day."

And with that Captain Fortain was dismissed from his own cabin.

Tara awoke with a jerk. Her cheeks were still sticky from the tears of her last waking that night. She was still laying on Airk's bare chest and her rough wake up had roused him from his dozing off. "Good morning." He whispered softly.

"Morning." She conceded. Why did he have to be so sweet sometimes? She was embarrassed from once again falling asleep, crying on his chest while he held her as she screamed out her fears from the dreams of Ragnarok she saw at least once each night. The worst part was the images of Airk, laying on broken stone, dead.

"You didn't scream," he pointed out, "no apocalyptic dreams this round?"

"No," she went over the details in her mind before they faded as dreams do in the morning light. Fortain, Prevoye, the priest and the sister, the Allfather flows, "but I am sure we are ahead of them now. They are continuing on to Prevoye in Montaigne. We need to get a ship and beat them there." She got up and began dressing herself. Airk swung his legs down and reached over to the boots beside his bed. The bed he abandoned when she woke up screaming last night. He slipped on his boots and shrugged into his vest, then proceeded to help Tara with her more complicated attire.

She envied how easily he got ready. Even on the lake in the dead of winter he was never cold wearing the simplest of garments. She left off her coat since Vendel was warmer than the northern coast and stowed it in their rucksack. She made do with her skins and skirts and her simple green blouse. She rebraided her blonde locks and tied the tail as Airk held it.

Airk slung the sack over his shoulder as she strode to the door to the room they had rented. Captain Horatio had given them a few Guilders for the trouble the fight with Borick had caused. But the room had cost most of them and they would not be able to return tonight.

"Come on then." She said as she opened the door.

"Right," replied Airk, "you said we have a Castilian to find."

"He will be moving fast this morning. I saw from where, but we have to find it." She said as they headed down the stairs of the inn.

Inigo DelaVega slipped his breeches on as quietly as he could. He was very practiced in early morning exits. The young man in the bed slept with a soft whine as he breathed in and out. Empty bottles of wine littered the room, and the bed where the naked man slept. He buckled his sword belt and was grabbing his boots when he heard, "you're leaving?"

The young man sat up in his bed, his face a mask of disappointment.

"Unfortunately, yes my pet." Said the duelist as he turned to sit on the windowsill to go ahead with putting on his boots since he was already caught. "I have business to attend to today, but will you be at the tavern again tonight?"

"I have meetings today to plan the wedding. Father insists on my marriage to the Countess DeSalle's youngest daughter. But I will make sure to get free and meet you tonight."

"Wonderful." Said Inigo as he strode back to the bed to plant a passionate kiss on the boy's lips. Now Inigo knew where not to be tonight.

He slipped to the window and out onto the roof of the easement. Just as the servant knocked on the door with the boy's breakfast. Inigo dropped to the lawn and hurried to the gate unseen.

Tara and Airk walked the streets of Vendel looking for the manor home Tara saw the Castilian exiting in her dream. The city was suffocating compared to the villages they were used to, in fact there were more people on this street they walked than Tara had met in total in Soroya. Where were they all going, no one was doing anything except going somewhere. How could an entire community spend its time on the move and not accomplish anything? People moved out of their way well enough though, how they were dressed did make them stand out and no one in their right head would walk straight at a person the size of Airk.

Tara was actually beginning to feel all the stares, particularly from the women. Many giggled at her as they passed. While Tara was in her boots, leather pants and skirts with her green blouse exposed without her fur lined jacket, the women she passed all wore expensive dresses and fancy shoes. Their face paint was all on their lips, eyelids and cheeks, in stark contrast to Tara's two red lines over her left eye and down her cheek. And their hair, many of the women had their hair in complicated constructions that doubled the height of their head. Although they were supposed to be fellow Vesten they wore Montaigne fashion and style, only the men wore more Vesten attire. But what they wore was the tunic and double breasted coats common in the Vendel league. They had not left their homeland but Tara felt as far from home as she ever had.

Airk could tell something was bothering her. Her cheeks were reddening and she was playing with the hair behind her ear like she did when she was nervous. "What are we looking for Tara?" He asked, hoping to distract her from whatever was bothering her.

"A blue manor house, black gate and greenery in the fences." She said, pulling on the memory of her dream. Which was, ironically, helping take her mind off the insulting women. "It should be around here. I can see the west face of the church over the trees like I did in my dream."

"Well I don't see the house," replied Airk, "but there is a Castilian making his way down the road."

"That would be him." Said Tara, happier than she should be for the chance to get away from the public eye.

The duelist made his way down the lane and into a neighborhood tavern. He quickly made his way to a table in the crowded bar with an ease that showed his familiarity with the establishment. He already had wine at his table by the time the tall blonde woman sat down opposite him.

"I am not seeking companionship at this time, senorita." He said dismissively as he poured his wine before he looked up at her. Her strange violet eyes caused his breath to catch in his throat for a second. A breath that was stolen away totally when the large muscular man sat down next to her. "On second thought, I would be remiss as a Castilian to not be hospitable."

"We need an audience with your employer,” said Tara in perfect Castilian.

“I am still amazed at how you do that,” said Airk, trying to complement her.

“It is called studying Airk,” she replied, sarcastically deflecting his compliment. She had switched back to Thea for Airk's sake.

"It is alright, my friends," he replied in Vesten, "I speak your language, just fine"

"We need to speak to the Carl you work for." Tara continued, her native tongue.

"I am afraid he will be busy at the League house most of the day." Smiled Inigo. "And that means he will arrive home late tonight, when the formal party at his home will already be in full swing. Perhaps you can make an appointment for next week."

"Next week will be too late." Assured Tara, "I understand he has a fondness for Vesten artifacts. Right now a Vatasine priest is searching for an item of our old gods. Right now we are ahead of him but each hour we waste risks him over taking us."

The duelist looked over the pair with a critical eye, theorizing what each would look like in civilized finery instead of their barbaric garb. Seeming to come to a conclusion he finally spoke up, "I may be able to help you both, but." Inigo paused with a big smile, "we will have to do something about your attire."

"What does our clothing have to do with talking to your benefactor?" Asked Tara.

Inigo sighed, knowing they didn't understand. "You can't speak with him till tonight since neither of you can get into the Vesten League Hall, and you can't go to the party dressed as you are."

"Oh, gods," said Tara, wincing. "We don't have the money for new clothes, sir. Is there another way?"

Inigo Smiled again, "Don't you worry, senorita. I, Inigo DelaVega, am happy to take care of all the arrangements."

The Castilian flagged a carriage as soon as they left the bar. He ushered the two in before speaking instructions to the driver in quick, hushed tones. The carriage sped off down the streets, and Inigo engaged the two in conversation.

"Now," he paused, realizing he was about to address them by names he never asked for. "I am terribly sorry, my friends. I have introduced myself and rudely neglected to inquire about your names."

"I am Tara Ivethaysdatter, and he is my…brother, Airk Ivethayson." Tara paused when she realized the Castilian duelist had been eyeing Airk since he first lay eyes on him. She didn't want to dissuade his admiration lest his aid dry up along with his interest. "We have come from the far north of Vestenmennavenjar to stop Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods."

"Ooo, a brother and sister act. I love it." Cooed the man. "Ivethay, I've heard that. That's some kind of witch or giant that…" his turn to pause now, balancing interest against insult, "steals children?"

"She is simply mother to us, and no she steals no one." Tara added indignantly, "People who can't or won't take care of a new baby leave it on the shore of the lake and Ivethay takes care of it. Usually finding a home in one of the villages of the island in need of a child to adopt them. However, Airk and I were raised by Ivethay herself, and we are privy to much more than our fellow foundlings."

"Like, the end of the world?" Asked Inigo, who was finding this exciting. "That is what this Ragnarok means, yes? I have heard stories in the many years I have been up here in Vendel."

“Something like that,’ Tara conceded. “And the item the priest seeks is the very one fated to begin Ragnarok. That is why we need your employer’s help to get to it before the Priest does.”

The carriage clattered to a stop and Inigo opened the door with a grin, “that is why I am helping you Senorita.”

The street was even more crowded than that outside the bar they left. The buildings that surrounded them were old, and their steps and eves were littered with men talking to women whose face paint was applied even thicker than the ladies on the high street.

“This is a Jenny district,” sighed Tara.

“Yes , but we are not here for them.” replied Inigo as he approached the door to the building.

Airk stepped out of the cab and was immediately surrounded by four of the women, all offering him services they promised he could not find elsewhere.

“I hold the money, ladies.” Tara interjected over her shoulder. This was met with disappointed groans from three of the ladies as they walked away. The last was a young girl Tara felt couldn’t be older than twelve, wrapped and painted up like the other girls on the street.

She continued to stare up at Airk dreamily and let out a deep sigh, “I am willing to take a considerable discount for you.”

Airk gently put a finger under her chin and smiled at her. “You don’t need a life like this. Go home, find a trade that will treat you like the lady you deserve,” and walked off to catch up with Tara.

Inigo passed two more women who petitioned him similarly. His reply was a simple, “sorry la zorra, you are just not my type.”

Inside the door the walls were covered with roll after roll of cloth, textiles and materials of every type, color and pattern. They traversed the hallway of linens to a large central area where five young women were busy sewing various garments hung on dummies.

“Angelique!” called out Inigo. “We are in need of your miracle touch!”

The older woman that emerged from between the rows of cloth was even shorter than Gretta had been, plump and matronly with long silver hair, braided and wrapped up in a continuing spiral that extended up from the top of her head like a crown. Thick, round glasses obscured her eyes in distorted swirls. She was surely dressed in finery that would befit a queen. “Inigo, I can’t possibly make you more handsome than you already are.” came her reply, in a thick Avalonian accent. “I have tried, but I cannot top perfection.”

“No Angelique, I bring two urchins of the north that need your magic to turn them into nobles. I present Tara Ivethaysdatter and Airk Ivethayson.”

Angelique adjusted her spectacles forward and back examining Airk and Tara. “Such a beautiful girl you are.” The lady said, grasping her hands. “We could make you a dress that would have every Jarl in Vesten fighting to make you his queen.” This prompted a wince from the Vesten girl and her mouthing ‘please no’ silently. “And you,” she continued, turning her attention to Airk, “a god among men I see.” the older woman ran her hand down his abs and shivered.” We can practically make you into a Jarl yourself.” This prompted an off thought in Tara that if Airk ends up being one of these Jarls that are supposed to fight over her then she was pretty sure how the contest would end. And she was positive Airk would not hesitate to fight over her. Angelique turned to Inigo, “maybe perfection can be topped after all.”

“Bite your tongue.” Inigo scolded, then whispered, “but I can’t argue, try as I might.”

Angelique clapped her hands twice to the side of her head. “Girls!” Four of the ladies present stopped immediately what they were working on and gathered around their mother. “You four take Mr. Airk to room three and adorn him how you would your own dream man.” as her daughters led the large Vesten away, she turned to the girl still sewing next, “Victoria!”

“Mother, I am busy.” she snapped at Angelique, “we have other customers, other orders that are due. We can’t just drop everything whenever Inigo needs a favor.”

Her mother looked at her sternly, "do you realize what we owe him? What he did for us? We came to this city from Avalon after your father died, not enough money to join the seamstress guild, no other way to support ourselves and he found us customers."

"Yes mother, jennys. We make clothes for prostitutes." She snipped back.

"Yes jennys. And because of us they look fabulous. The ladies who buy our clothes have an advantage over those who don't and the guild doesn't care that we sell to them. So if Inigo needs help, it is the least we can do to repay how he helped us.

The girl exhaled loudly and put down her tools to stomp over to her mother and the new customers. She was a little taller than her mother, even at her young age and thin, with long brown hair tied out of her face with blue ribbon. Her attitude changed dramatically when she reached them and looked into Tara’s eyes. The young seamstress seemed awestruck. "Those eyes," she gasped.

"Yes, they seem to unnerve most people." Said Tara biting her lower lip and looking down. As the girl was shorter, this did not help and she continued to gaze into them.

"No." She said, "They're beautiful. They are the most lovely shade of violet I have ever seen. I think…" She paused, seemingly working out a hundred details in her mind at once. "Yes, I think I have that shade, or close to it." Victoria began to gather up under layer garments and hold them up against Tara, dropping them into her arms as she found fitting ones. When Tara’s arms were full she ushered her to another room off the main shop. "Get out of," she gestured up and down Tara’s ensemble, "this, and into those and I'll be right back to start the dress."

The girl was a flurry over the next few hours, wrapping materials around Tara, measuring, cutting, stitching as the gown began to form around her like magic.

"So is the big man your beau?" Asked Victoria, while she worked. "I could find out what my sister's are making for him and try to match styles…"

"He's… kind of… my brother?" Tara didn’t mean to make it sound like a question but her stammering was hardly confident either.

"Oh." Squeaked Victoria, disappointedly.

"Not by blood," quickly corrected Tara. "We are both adopted, and have just been together our entire lives. To tell the truth," began Tara, standing there, arms out while Victoria adjusted the gown, not sure why she was pouring her heart out to this girl. "and I'm not sure why I am telling you this, but I'm not sure what we are. It's so complicated, I'm not sure how I feel or how I should feel."

Victoria stopped fussing with the fabric and looked into her exotic eyes, "It is simple, do you want to look beautiful for him? Do you want him captivated by the sight of you and unable to look away?"

Tara thought about it. Airk already followed her like a puppy, kind of like all the girls that throw themselves at him every day, he already acted that way for her. But on the other hand Tara had to watch them fawn over him, should she not let him watch men approach her? "You know, I think I kind of do."

Victoria peeked her head into the room where her sisters were working on Arik, "Lacy," she whispered, and waved her over when she got her attention.

"What," whined Lacy about being drug away from Airk. "I'm kind of busy." She jerked her head in his direction to emphasize.

"That's what you all are making for him?" She asked, seeing how their outfit for him was coming together.

"Wouldn't you if you had that to work with?"

"I need you for her," Victoria countered, "you are our best at hair and makeup, and it's not like that is needed for him." Victoria raised her eyebrows as high as she could, daring her sister to argue the point.

"Aw, fine!" Said Lacy and followed her sister.

Evening approached with Airk uncomfortably waiting with Inigo by the cab he had hailed. Airk had loaded their rucksack into the carriage with all their old clothes. Inigo seemed preoccupied with adjusting Airk's new clothing, smoothing over the shirt with both hands and straightening his pants.

"You look marvelous, senior," said the duelist for the fifth time, " I told you they were miracle workers, did I not?" They had dressed him in black linen pants and maroon riding boots, and a white silken tunic with the arms removed.

"Is this really something people wear?" Airk asked.

"Trust me, my boy," Inigo practically Cooed, "not a lot of other men could pull this off."

When the ladies from the shop finally walked out, they lined up blocking the doorway. Angelique cleared her throat, "may I present LADY Tara Ivethaysdatter."

When the girls parted, Airk found he had lost his ability to breathe. The violet gown matched her eyes, and the cinch hugged her curves. It didn't flare out as much as the other gowns he had seen this morning but it made her seem so elegant. The dress stopped before her shoulders and jumped over to her arms, covering them to her fingers like gloves. Lacy had undone her braid and tamed her hair into spiraling curls that hung down in front of her right side to her abdomen. The girl had also painted Tara’s face like the ladies from the highborne street. Airk realized now how he had taken for granted that she had always been in his life. He knew now he didn't even deserve her.

Inigo took her hand as she approached, while Airk was dumbstruck. "You are enchanting my dear," he said as he helped her into the carriage, "I assure you that you will have no problem getting the attention of my employer."

"Thank you Inigo." She smiled, as she sat down in the cab. Inigo slapped the side of Airk's face twice lightly and brought him back to his senses enough to breathe and enter the cab.

He was still staring when the carriage began to move, "you look like a girl." His statement garnered a hostile glare from Tara. "I…I mean…of course you are a girl, I meant… lady, a right and proper lady…and…"

"That's enough," she stated forcefully, "you need not say anything else tonight."

"It's just…I mean," he began but another hostile look with her finger on her lips silenced him. He shut up and she gave him a witty half smile before turning her head to look out the window.

"This isn't going to get awkward at all." Said Inigo in a hushed tone, to no one in particular.

The manor of Inigo's employer made the houses of high street look like huts from their village. The room was filled with people, all well dressed, all chatting, eating, drinking and dancing. Inigo whispered to the doorman and he stepped in front of them, facing the crowd.

"Lady Tara Ivethaysdatter and Airk Ivethayson, prince and princess of Ivethay Island!" The entire party stopped and turned to look at them.

"We are not royalty, Inigo." Whispered Tara, "what are you pulling?"

"You are the children of the Witch of Weird Lake. She rules the isle, that makes you royalty." Replied Inigo quietly, with a smile almost larger than his face. "Secondly, no one here knows who you are so you may as well have fun with it."

The pair descended the stairs to the ballroom arm in arm, Tara smiling nervously at the crowd and Airk's goofy grin just for having her on his arm. "You can stop enjoying this at any time." She whispered to him through gritted teeth.

"Never," he replied happily.

A server with a tray brought flutes of champagne and they each took one. "What's the matter with you?" She asked seeing Airk's face was not one of enjoyment now.

"Don't like it, too bubbly." He replied.

"Well, I doubt they have mead, so I guess you'll have to make due." She laughed, feeling better at the fact that Airk was uncomfortable too. "I notice too you are the only one here without sleeves."

"They were too tight and Angelique's daughters said I was fine without them." He said as he flexed the arm she was holding.

She smacked his bare arm but was visibly smiling at the situation. "Those girls just didn't want to cover them up."

"And I notice no one else here is as beautiful as you." He said, attempting to verbally parry her jab.

"No," she said bluntly, closing her eyes and shaking her head lightly so as to not mess up her hair, "still mad at you."

The song being played ended and the orchestra was preparing for the next. Airk looked into her eyes and asked, "dance with me?"

"No way," she protested, "not in front of a bunch of strangers. Not in this dress, and we only know one dance between us."

"So," he said, already pulling onto the dance floor, "it's the right beat and we've danced it before."

Lord Vulf Ulrikson arrived through his private entrance and made his way to his bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his coat over the antique chair.

"Your party is in full swing." Came the familiar Castilian accented voice from the doorway.

"Oh hell," he said, pinching his nose in exhaustion, "I forgot. What is this one for again?"

"The orphanage fund my lord. Your building needs a new roof."

"No Inigo, it is supposed to be for my orphanage, but for them down there it's a chance for one of them to sell me on shady business deals or for some opportunistic woman to get her hooks in for the chance to become Lady Ulrikson."

"Believe me, hermano, tonight you really want to attend." Inigo had his smile on. Vulf knew that smile. It meant his old friend was up to something.

"Do I have to ask what is going on?" Ventured Vulf.

"You have a couple special guests downstairs, the kind of special you appreciate."

"Is she pretty?" He said, attempting to guess where this was going.

"She is," his friend confirmed, "and so is he."

Vulf raised an eyebrow at this twist in the conversation. "Alright Inigo, is this about opportunity or is it romance?"

"Both maybe," Inigo mused, "depending on how we play our cards."

Inigo returned to the ballroom, allowing his friend to get changed for the evening's games. The room was in a tizzy, confirming to the Castilian that these two were worth the effort he put into them. Airk and Tara were in the center of the dance floor, the party circled them as they performed a northerner folk dance. They aligned arms and spun round each other, trading arms at some intervals and kicking out at others. Her smile was beaming and his deep laughter resonated in the hall as loud as the music itself. He hooked elbows with her at one point and rolled her across his shoulders. They seemed to simply bring each other joy. Inigo made his way down the stairs as the song was ending and the party erupted into applause and cheering.

"Excellent my friends," he clapped along with the crowd, "I hadn't realized you would be the entertainment for the event as well. I believe I have seen that dance before though. It is a wedding dance, from up north, yes?"

"Yes," answered Tara, panting, "it's really the only dance we know. We used to dance it from the sidelines at village weddings."

"Oh, but you must be parched after such an excursion." Inigo said, with concern, "Airk, me amigo, go to the bar there and bring us some wine. And while you are there ask about the special mead for you, trust me."

Airk smiled at the mention of mead and made his way to the bar. "My employer has arrived and will be down shortly." Said Inigo, turning to Tara after watching Airk leave as long as he could. "In the meantime maybe you should meet some of the other carls of Vendel. See if they can offer you anything better, or maybe even force my employer into being more generous with his help." He led her toward a group of men gathered by the fireplace talking.

Airk had indeed discovered the special mead. And after a tankard to sample hebhad it refilled and managed to get a bottle of Montaigne wine and two glasses for Tara and Inigo. When he turned around he found his path back blocked by several women.

"My, what a lovely dance you and your…sister?...performed." said one woman and tittered.

"But I am sure you can find many more dance partners that could… appreciate your talents more." Said another, breathally.

"No, thank you ladies." Said Airk nervously, "we know each other's moves already so well. And of course, we only know the one dance…"

Another lady ran her hand down one of Airk’s bare arms. "My my, how does someone get so…Big?"

"Well, lots of exercise." Fumbled Airk, trying to find a way around the women but feeling them press in closer.

Tara found herself glad for the gloves, as every man she was introduced to insisted on kissing her hands. She was assaulted by compliments on her beauty, buried under advice on finding the right match that could take her someplace, they never said where that was, just implied it was the place to be. Tara knew where she needed to be and found this attention not as exciting as she thought it would be. She looked for Airk and saw him still by the bar, chest deep in ladies again with the drinks held above his head and she could see this time he was trying to find a way around them. Is this how he felt all the time, when women fawned over him? Did he not enjoy it, and just wanted to get away, get back to her? She continued to smile at the men Inigo introduced but had stopped listening, just hoping Airk would return soon. She swore to herself she wouldn't give him grief about other girls anymore if he would just get here now. The lull in the conversation told Tara she had been asked something and had missed what that was.

"I'm sorry, I was distracted," she said politely, "just wondering where my brother had gotten to."

"Oh, he appears to be fine," said the older man that stood before her. She had been so distracted it seemed, she missed his introduction by the Castilian all together. He was also at least four inches shorter than Tara. "He seems to be getting along swimmingly with the ladies."

"Yes," she said, through her smile, "he always does."

A fanfare snatched up the attention of the entire party. The doorman announced Volfgang Roderick Stelan Ulrikson who descended from the side steps that led to his private quarters. As he made his way through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting people, Airk was able to slip away from the throng and make his way back toward Tara. When he arrived at her side he hadn't gotten the chance to hand her a glass for the wine when she clamped an arm around his arm tightly.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"No," she hissed, "if we ever find ourselves at anything like this again you will not leave me alone."

"Never again." He promised, "I was having more trouble than usual getting away…"

"All the girls before were interested in you." Tara interrupted. "These people seem more interested in what we represent. No thanks to our exaggerated introduction by Inogo. They think if they can bag you they will get to be a Jarl's wife."

"I'm not getting bagged by anyone," he said,pulling her closer, "my heart is not mine to give."

"Stop it," she childed, but she laid her head on his arm, for once grateful for his attachment to her.

Volf schmoozed the crowd, attempting to locate his friend, and whatever company he had brought that the young carl needed to meet. He quickly discussed topics of silver mine rights, dissuading pirate attacks on Vesten ships, and future fundraising and social events before excusing himself and moving on. He found Inigo, in of all places the business circle that always formed up by the fireplace, where the expensive chairs were located.

In addition to the Castilian were two Vesten he was surprisedbhe didn't see from the stairs. The man was practically a giant and the woman was as tall as he was. Volf was by no means short at almost six foot but she met him eye to eye. And her eyes, a bright purple that matched her gown met his gaze that gave her an exotic beauty he had never encountered before. But he was a Vesten, born and bred, and had heard the tales of what eyes like that meant. He shot Inigo a glance and raised his brows. The duelist nodded as Vulf closed the distance to Tara and took her hand.

"And who have we here?" His voice dripping as he kissed her hand.

"Tara Ivethaysdatter," she replied as she rolled her violet eyes.

"And Airk Ivethayson," said the large man, with a tone that Vulf found almost hostile.

"Ivethay, as in the Witch of Weird Lake?" Vulf asked, he needed to diffuse the tension before he frightened her off, or worse before the big man tore him apart. "I know the legend. My father told it to me. She takes in abandoned and unwanted children and gives them homes. I must admit it inspired me to build my orphanage. The very orphanage this party is raising funds for. Children should never be without a home. I do what I can to make sure they are fed, clothed and educated to be ready for any life they choose. It's my mission."

"Then maybe explain the girl I met today working as a jenny, who couldn’t have been more than twelve."

"Alas, I cannot get to all of them in time." Countered Ulrikson, smiling at Tara’s fire and appreciating her resolve. "Vendel is a big city unfortunately."

"Indeed, if only more wealthy carls could share your altruistic heart." Said Tara, smiling brightly.

She was smart, she was quick, she was definitely beautiful and he couldn't even tell if the last comment was genuine or sarcastic. And if she really could see the future, then Inigo had made the ultimate catch.

"We unfortunately do not have time for pleasantries Mr. Ulrikson, we are against the clock, as it were." The blonde stated bluntly, we are not the only ones after what we seek and we need a partner to fill in the gaps."

"This is a party, Miss Ivethaysdatter, my party. And I can't just abandon it for a business meeting."

"You arrived late to your own party and we are the longest conversation you've had since arriving." She shot back. She turned to Inigo as she continued. "However if you cannot help us, tell me Inigo, which gentleman was it here that was the shipping magnate?"

She hit below the belt, she challenged his capabilities and was utilizing his friend against him. If he didn't know better, Vulf would think he was falling for her. He had to take control again, "I will make you a deal miss, dance with me. Help me give my guests a good show and we can have a quick meeting in my study."

"No," Airk started, but Tara put a hand on his chest and he stood down.

"It's ok, we need to get this done," she started to Airk, and turned to Vulf, "so I'll play your game, but I'm not a very good dancer."

He took her hand and led her to the, now rapidly clearing dance floor. "It's fine miss Tara, it is only a waltz, just follow my lead."

The music queued up and the dance began, "that's quite a protective brother you have there."

"You have no idea, sir." She smirked at him, "just remember what he could do to you and we will get along just fine."

Vulf visibly swallowed, images of what Airk could do forcing their way into his head.

Minutes later they had retired to the study, the party left to its own devices for the time being, and Vulf sat down behind his large desk with only Tara, Airk and Inigo in his company.

"So miss Ivethaysdatter, what is so important that you use poor Inigo to crash my party and pull me away from potential business deals and possible wives," he paused, "unless you already know who I marry, because you've seen her."

Tara squinted in annoyance at the man, "so you are aware of what I can do?"

"I have heard the tales. My grandfather said he knew a man with eyes like yours when he was a boy." Again he paused, keeping control of the conversation as his father had taught him. "They hung him for too many horrible predictions."

"Tara is never wrong," started Airk as she held up her hand and he again was silenced. Vulf was awed by the control she had over him.

"No Mr. Ulrikson, I have not seen the woman who will agree to your hand." She stalked over to his desk, Vulf had seen her grace on the dancefloor but now she moved with power. She moved like a fighter, and she placed both fists on his desk and looked him in the eye. "As for why we are here, the answer is simple. Gjallarhorn."

This caused Vulf to stand up, eyes wide. "No." He said, "you know where to find the Horn of Heimdall."

"Somewhat," she stepped back from the desk and folded her arms. "But, unfortunately we are not the only ones looking for it. A Vaticine priest seeks a journal written by a man named Williamson."

"The Allfather flow expedition." Said Ulrikson smiling at being ahead of the conversation. "He claimed they found where the Bifrost touched down on Theah while trying to map the ice flows. That book was lost when the ship it was on was attacked by pirates."

Now it was Tara's turn to smile, "the pirate that raided the ship sold it to a noble in Montaigne. The priest is headed there now. I estimate we are a single day ahead of them."

"You are sure about all this?" Prodded Ulrikson.

"I have talked to people," she paused, embarrassed before continuing, "and I have dreamed of his meetings and heard his plans."

"You can do that? Just listen in on meetings you're not present at?" He looked at the Vesten girl in awe, "Tara Ivethaysdatter, what I wouldn't give for a gift like that."

"No, you wouldn't." She turned and walked away, burying her face in Airk. She didn’t need the man to see the tears that mentioning her dreams brought to her eyes.

"I'm in," said Vulf with a clap of his hands, "what is it you require?"

Tara sniffed and quickly wiped her eyes before turning to face the man. "A ship. A ship and provisions to Prevoye and then to the flows."

"Done, we can leave tomorrow. I'll cancel my appointments for the next two weeks…"

"You don’t need to come Mr. Ulrikson. We just need the ship."

"Surely you don't expect me to give up the bragging rites this quest will bring me." Argued Vulf, "I am kin to the Jarl of Vendel, but not close enough to be realistically considered in line. My father sent me to business school to become a carl, but to bring back artifacts of our heritage can make me a greater man than both." He chuckled and slapped his hands together again. "No ma'am, my aid comes with my presence."

"It will be dangerous," Tara began.

"I have been taught swordplay by Inigo himself, and I can handle myself." Volf promises.

The two looked over at Inigo, he shrugs and nods letting the siblings know that his skills are, ok at best.

“Suit yourself.” Tara conceded. “Then we will take our leave until tomorrow.” The two then turned to leave when Tara turned back suddenly, “you wouldn’t happen to have a recommendation for an inexpensive inn, would you?”

“Stay here,” smiled Volf, “I have plenty of spare rooms. Inigo, get them each a room, please. I have a party to get back to.”

The party finished late into the evening, by the time Vulf got back to his private quarters he was so preoccupied with gathering items for the trip he was still in his clothes. He paced back and forth in his study, having already written letters to be sent to various appointments to be postponed; he was at a loss as to what he would require on the trip. He had not had a real adventure in his life. Of course he and Inigo had sailed to ports in various countries of Theah and gotten into mischief, but they never really left major cities where women and drink were plentiful. But this would be in the wilds, the Allfather ice flow. Honestly, not really so much the wilds as a barren wasteland of cold and ice. Vulf thought they could have picked a better location for treasure hunting, somewhere tropical maybe, but this was the adventure before him so he was willing to brave a little hardship. Especially considering he'd have a view of a beauty such as Miss Ivethaysdatter. If , that is, he could get her away from her over protective brother. Vulf couldn't understand how he could be so against her meeting eligible men. He couldn't be happier when his sister finally married, in fact he pushed a few up and coming Bachelors at her.

He was still mulling over the packing when he heard the scream. It was loud and piercing, and it could have been no one else but Tara. Vulf dashed out of his office and down the hall to the guest rooms. He flung open her door to find Airk sitting on her bed already, his arms around her and her head buried in his chest crying. Airk pulled the sheet up, covering her body as soon as he saw Vulf enter.

"This is what knowing the future looks like Mr. Ulrikson." Said Airk softly, seemingly to not disturb Tara in her sobbing "Don't be so sure you would want this gift." He looked down at his weeping sister and gently whispered, "I'm here, I'm alright, the world isn't ending just yet. I promise you we will stop it."

Vulf stepped back out of the room and closed the door quietly. He had never felt like such an ass in his life. He assumed a gift like hers was a boon, a great gift. He understood now how it can be a curse. He walked by the door to the room they had given her brother. Their sack was on the bed and it was still made. He didn't try to sleep in it, he went right to her room. He was expecting it, meaning she goes through that a lot, if not every night. How does someone deal with it?