By the time Ran returned, Jair and the witch had gone back to sitting and reading their respective literature, monster parts all tucked away safely into their appropriate storage jars on the shelves or in cabinets in Qahrvirna’s office corner.

"Where to next?" Ran looked at their host uneasily.

"We wait here. Aethron will come, or he will not." Jair beckoned for Ran to seat himself in the cozy living room.

After a glance around as though suspecting more vile body parts would be in evidence, Ran allowed himself to sink into one of the plush cushioned seats. “How long do you expect us to be waiting?”

“Oh, maybe a week or so. Hopefully less, but I can’t be sure with him. He doesn’t always do what you'd want or expect. Sometimes he comes running the moment I call, other times he intentionally slows down in order to ‘teach me a lesson’ or something of that nature. It’s all depending on his mood at the time, you see.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t sound very reliable.” Ran looked at the witch uneasily. “So we’re going to be heading back to the transit platform so we can get to the town for tonight, or…?”

“We’ll be staying here, of course. Qahrvirna’s a well known tourist stop for those who wander the Oriad. She isn’t going to hurt us and we won’t need to risk missing Aethron by being away from home when he comes back.”

“That explains why she has a full lounge set up in her front room, at least,” Ran said, running a hand across the velvet arm of the chair upon which he sat. “So she doesn’t snack on people in the middle of the night or anything like that?”

“Of course I don’t,” Qahrvirna called from her desk, barely raising her voice. An accompanying caw from one of her familiars, and she smiled and raised a hand for it to perch on a finger.

The sight did nothing to reassure Ran, who continued to watch her warily.

“I would only accept voluntary donations, or what kind of hostess would I be? If you have nothing else to offer, of course, I will accept your body and blood as compensation, but I also have payment plans available.”

“What kind of payment plans?” Ran asked suspiciously.

“Some choose to help out in my gardens, some choose to hunt the woods for me.” She inclined her head slyly in Jair’s direction. “I’m always in need of good help. There’s countless ways you can prove yourself worthy of a bed for the night.”

Ran immediately reddened. “Ahh, I’m not sure I’m interested—”

Jair laughed. “Qahrvirna, looks like your approachable face and your seductive one look a bit similar.”

The witch’s face lost its teasing edge. “I will rent you a place for you to sleep. I expect repayment, not subservience.”

“So where is this bed?” Ran looked around the room, which while very cozy was certainly no bedroom. “Upstairs?”

“Downstairs, of course.” She stood smoothly from her desk and moved toward the library section of the room with quick gliding steps, then pulled a rug aside to reveal a chained and locked trapdoor set into the floor beneath. Her smile was sharp and bright, revealing her fangs fully. “I keep several secure guest rooms for anyone interested in my hospitality.”

Ran’s expression of horrified incredulity was priceless.

Jair lost control of his laughter, gasping for air as he fell to the floor.

“A chained up basement?” Ran tried to keep his voice level, but failed. “This is what you expect us to sleep in?”

“Don't be silly!” Qahrvirna tapped a finger against the lock on the trapdoor. “I wouldn’t put you in the basement, that’s for monsters and things you really don’t want to meet. This is the guest suite.”

She tugged the trapdoor open. The chains all rose smoothly with it, revealed to be fully ornamental and nonfunctional.

Beneath the trapdoor, broad carpeted steps led down to a brightly lit subterranean den. More cozy chairs and sofas, a bar complete with various drinks, and three doors on either side of the elongated oval that formed the ‘not a basement’.

“Room three for me, please,” Jair said, raising a finger. “I appreciate the aesthetics.”

Qahrvirna tossed him the key. “Certainly. And for you?” turning to Ran.

“I’ll take my chances up here, I think.”

“No.” Jair would brook no argument.

“No? You want me to go into the creepy basement without arguing?” Ran’s eyes darted sideways at Jair.

“You don’t want to be on ground floor level at night. Trust me.”

“Oh.” Ran fidgeted uneasily.

“That’s right, you’re claustrophobic now?”

“I’ve been eaten a few too many times by now to be entirely comfortable in enclosed spaces out of my control, yes.”

Jair, still grinning, offered, “Do you need me to sleep by your door? Keep out the scary monsters?”

Ran glowered. “If you tell me it’s safe, I’ll trust you.”

“It’s safe.” Jair waved for Ran to precede him down the stairs, then called up to Qahrvirna, “Call me if Aethron gets here.”

Jair tugged the trapdoor closed above them.

Ran twitched, but didn’t otherwise react.

“Uncomfortable?”

“I’ll get used to it.” Then Ran grinned at Jair with a knowing glint in his eyes. "So, why were you flirting with that vampire?"

"I do not flirt."

Stolen story; please report.

"Then what is all this…" Ran waved his hand back and forth. "You act like some weird combination of old enemies, lovers, and people trying to outwit the other in a barter."

Jair laughed. "Very astute. Your guess is actually closer than I expected. But we've never been enemies. There's a reason I call her ‘the witch’ and not ‘the vampire.’"

"Isn't she both?"

"Yes. But one of them is more meaningful to me. I do not have friends among the vampires."

Ran frowned. "You're in denial about her nature so that you can justify being her friend?"

"Not at all. I am always fully aware of who and what she is. I also know her well enough that I am confident with 100% accuracy I can avoid or prevent any circumstance which would place us on opposite sides of a conflict."

"You realize saying something like that is just tempting fate, right?"

"Fate and I don't get along,” Jair said coldly. “Ever since fate decided to end the world in my lifetime, I've rather stopped caring what it has to say."

"End of the world. Right. I keep forgetting that's what this is all leading up to."

"I don't."

Ran went very quiet, looking awkward.

Jair tried not to remember how many times he’d died futilely, fought back a wave of relentless recollection.

Finally Ran cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I wish I could –"

"It's fine. I will do what I will do. And I will probably do it many, many, many times." Jair’s voice came out flat, without inflection.

Ran looked even more concerned.

Jair shook off the mood and smiled. "But, that's the distant future. Right now, I have you, I have Maelstrom, and we have years ahead of us before we need to even think about the end of the world."

"Yeah. I suppose."

"Don't you trust me?" Jair's playful tone was back now, grinning at his longtime friend. "Worrying about the future doesn't change it. Only actions."

"You say that like it's easy."

"Give it time. You’ll figure it out."

They stayed with Qahrvirna for three days, Ran helping her in the garden in return for the freedom to stay with her and eat her dinners. She was a good enough cook that, once Ran got used to the foreign Orard spices, even he admitted it was some of the best food he’d ever eaten.

True to her word, she never once harassed either Ran or Jair for the duration of their stay. If not for the glow of her eyes and how often she was away from home at midnight, you might never have guessed she was a vampire at all.

"Who are you?"

Aethron's booming voice startled Jair awake from a peaceful dream about fighting off an army of drakenhounds rushing toward the tower. In the dream, he’d been his proper self, tossing the drakenhounds aside like dandelion fluff in the wind.

Jair yawned and stretched as he sat up. "Rude as ever, old man."

"Who are you?" Aethron demanded again.

"I,” Jair flawlessly imitated Aethron’s strident confidence, “am Jair Welburne."

The older man’s eyes tightened suspiciously. "I don’t know you. How do you know me?"

"I'm a time traveler. You trained me in the future."

Aethron fell silent.

Jair gave him time. This particular revelation was always hard for him to swallow. Time-affecting spells or constructs didn't exist, time-affecting soulspells were rare, and ones allowing active communication with other timelines rarer still.

"Prove it."

"Jessicc, Florence, Hightower, lavender, blue-throat wine, 903."

Aethron did not visibly react aside from a faint shift of his eyes, but Jair knew the man well enough to know he was appropriately shaken.

The silence stretched.

"Why are you here?" Aethron’s voice was fractionally quieter, the closest he’d ever get to admitting he believed him.

"Right now, all I need is for you to bestow upon me the mageblade class."

Jair tossed the holding cloth-wrapped bundle that was Maelstrom across to the man.

Aethron stepped back, out of the way.

Maelstrom’s bundle landed short of him, thumping to the ground.

Aethron stooped hesitantly, as though the sword were about to bite him, and flipped back the corner of the cloth in a quick movement, darting his hand back almost instantly. He nudged it further open with a foot, revealing Maelstrom in all its misshapen glory.

Aethron’s eyes snapped up Jair's face. "This is yours?"

"I brought it back in time inside my soul." Jair grinned with unconcealed glee. "It was your plan, and it worked perfectly, once I ironed out a few of the difficulties. The only problem is…" he gestured down at his body, "I still need the Mageblade class before I can use it properly."

Aethron glanced assessingly at Jair's arms.

Jair held them up to show plainly that he had no imprints.

"You've been using a lot of constructs lately."

"Not enough to be a problem."

"Yes enough to be a problem."

"Not for receiving the class. What damage they may do to my future imprinting speed, I am prepared to deal with."

Aethron grunted. "You say you’re from the future."

"I am. And I am desperately eager to put myself back together."

Aethron grinned. "I'm half tempted to leave you this way. Take you around the woods a few times to show you some respect."

“I already respect you."

"I don’t respect you. You can say what you can say, but I see no evidence."

"No evidence? Do you casually share the secrets of your history?”

“Mind-reading isn’t implausible.”

“Then the sword itself, my name, class mageblade? Where do you think that came from?" Jair glanced between Aethron and the legendary weapon at his feet.

"Stranger things have been done. What proof do I have that Jair Welburne is even your name? You could have stolen this from anyone."

"Right. The paranoia. Alright, what rigmarole do you want me to go through this time?”

"I haven't decided yet."

They looked at each other, neither flinching or looking away, staring deep into each other's soul. Measuring.

"Fine. I hereby grant you the class of Mageblade. Use it well." Aethron nudged Maelstrom's still-wrapped form towards Jair with one foot, then immediately took a step back as though the sword still represented a threat.

Jair barely paid him any attention. He reached down and wrapped a hand around Maelstrom's hilt.

–Class added: Mageblade

–Class upgraded: Reforged rank

–Class upgraded: Ascendant rank

"Finally."

For a long moment he simply held his sword, no sparks shoving his hand away. Then, in a flash of silver light, Jair returned Maelstrom to his soul.

The sword clicked into place within him like the missing piece of a puzzle. No mental screaming in his mind or angry claws in his soul.

There was no word possible to describe the feeling of correctness that was having Maelstrom back where it belonged. Jair had become used to the constant fight to hold it together, and the even more difficult fight to keep it from rejecting him.

Preventing their dissonant spirits from destroying each other had always become easier once Maelstrom was out into its physical body, but the thread that tied them together remained in perpetual tension even then. Only now that the fight had ended could Jair really understand how much constant strain he'd lived with all those months.

For the first time since he’d fallen back past before the beginning, Jair fully and truly relaxed.

Everything was back on track. From now on, nothing would be able to stop him. No more delays, no more forced moves.

He had two more months before the original start of his loop, giving him plenty of time to get up to a full spell loadout. Perhaps not enough for his physical body and mana capacity to reach their future heights, but enough to eliminate any disadvantage against others of his apparent level.

Two luxurious months to find a way to save Reskas from their flood, and prepare to slay Ran’s dragon.

He had Ran, and he had Maelstrom. They could face anything.

----------------------------------------