Taking my time enjoying the fresh air of the courtyard and feeling my muscles move easier with each step, I noticed Dalton in the distance, speaking to another. Approaching, I felt familiarity bubbling in the back of my mind.

She was tanned, standing strong with broad shoulders, almost half a foot over my son's own stature, with long brown hair that flowed down her shoulders, over the blue and brown noble gown that she wore. And by the way she stood, her fist clenched and her teeth grit into the barest facsimile of a smile, I could tell that this noble was angry.

"Dalton," she spoke, a mix of frustration and exhaustion in her words, "Alwur is already having difficulty procuring the lumber that was promised to House Taine, we simply can't afford this additional project!"

"Is it a lack of manpower, High Lord Tribus of Alwur?" I had never heard Dalton's voice so cold and authoritative. "Has your population suddenly decreased since your last census? I'd enjoy not having the same baseless reasoning plague me after the meeting has already ended."

I slowed my approach, my interest catching onto the conversation as Macy began to look more and more nervous. I knew that voice and that face, but it had been so long and the darkness…

"It is not a question of manpower," the high lord said, continuing despite my son's wishes. "It is a question of the resistance we face, the dishonor we invoke, if we continue to expand our operation. The risk-!"

"There is always a risk," Dalton shook his head. "Yet, the risks you speak of are simple trifles that we've already dealt with before, time and time again. Do you need a refresher on how to deal with them?"

The noble paused, a flash of fear in her eyes, but she stood stalwart. "No, High Lord Tribus of Gelvurt. Do you need a refresher on the deals and promises we made in writing?"

"I remember them," Dalton nodded, looking like he was going to continue until he seemed to finally notice my approach, his form stiffening before he continued, "I'll send one of my men later to once more explain the particulars of the past agreement. That will be all."

The noble seemed surprised for a moment at the dismissal, before she followed my son's gaze and met my own, her eyes widening as recognition shot through both of us at the same time.

"Caitlyn," I said, the beginnings of a smile on my lips, "it's been quite some time."

High Lord Caitlyn Tribus, the cursed noble of the wooden city of Alwur, seemed to shimmer for a moment, briefly looking much younger, before reverting back to her present form.

"Rakta?" She took a step forward, looking completely taken off guard. "Is that really you?"

Dalton looked distinctly displeased as I approached, for reasons I couldn't put my finger on, before I nodded, "It's me, Caitlyn."

"When did you…" Caitlyn blinked, before turning a burning glare at my son. "How long were you going to wait until you informed us he had woken up?"

My son's own look was glacial, but I swiftly spoke up in his defense, "Caitlyn, I woke up mere hours ago. Dalton, I'm confident he wouldn't keep such a thing secret, but we've barely had time to talk as it is."

"Is that so?" She said, swallowing down hard on her anger at my words, but my son's displeasure barely abated. Why were they fighting? What project had they been talking about?

"I'm glad you're back, Rakta," Caitlyn said, stepping forward and giving me a hug. I reciprocated as best as I could, but it was a tad difficult with my missing limb and her new height, she was even taller than I.

I nodded, hugging her with my recovering strength, "So am I. My son and I have much to speak about, but will you be staying in Gelvurt for a time?"

"I'll make new arrangements," Caitlyn nodded, "I'll send to Jorge, let him know-"

"That won't be necessary," Dalton spoke up.

She turned to my son, already looking ready for a fight. "And why is that?"

"I've already had the news penned and sent to those with a need to know," Dalton said, his arms held gracefully behind his back. "I'd rather keep a finger on the pulse of this information rather than it spread like wildfire, my father doesn't need that kind of excitement while he recovers."

Caitlyn looked at my son with distrust, but I was beginning to feel the old chains of politics beginning to show their ugly head once more, threading themselves through every relationship.

"High Lord Tribus of Niers will receive a letter, then? About your father?" Caitlyn stood as official as she could, the contrast of her formality with my son and her lack thereof with myself being readily apparent.

My son didn't speak for a moment, glancing at me, before nodding, "I'll have one penned to him as well, I promise."

As soon as he promised, Caitlyn relaxed. I supposed that meant that, no matter their friction, my son's given word could still be trusted.

And yet, I felt like I was only scratching the surface of House Tribus' inner-politics.

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

After some brief conversation, it was clear that Caitlyn had to depart to make her own arrangements to stay in Gelvurt for some additional time. It was sad to see her leave so soon, but I was happy to finally have spoken with an old friend, especially one that time had seemed to have forgotten.

After the farewells, Dalton finally turned to Macy and frowned. "Did I not make myself clear to keep my father unburdened by my business, Macy?"

Macy, who had been keeping distant from our conversation, flinched. Her hair whitened at the tips, as though she were a deer spooked in the forest by the cracking of branches.

"Well," she glanced at me and around the garden, as if trying to look for something, "I sent word, uh, I'm sure I sent word. I talked to Levile and he said he'd go on up ahead and, and, uh, let you know…"

Dalton continued to stare at her.

"And, uh, I thought you'd be done with business, because, um, I was told you were done and that, well," Macy let out a bit of nervous laughter before shrugging, "oops?"

Dalton closed his eyes, before taking a deep breath. "I will speak with Levile. If this blame is truly his, he'll find new employment elsewhere."

"Well," I said, both of them looking at me as I spoke, Macy untensing,, "I was happy to see Caitlyn. It seems like she's refined her curse into a respectable technique, very impressive."

"Yes, very impressive," Dalton said the words, but there wasn't much heart in them. "I wish she would spend her time refining her policies."

From everything I remembered, Caitlyn was an admirable leader of her people, truly caring for those underneath her care. Something that few others within House Velbrun had ever expressed.

There was some silence between us for a moment as we walked through the garden, before I noticed Dalton turn his head towards Macy from the corner of my eye.

"Oh, well, look at the time," Macy shakily giggled, "I better go, uh, check up on Rakta…I mean, uh, clean up his room, not that it's dirty or anything, but-."

"Macy," Dalton said, his tone brokering no further conversation.

She beat a hasty retreat, as hasty as she could without looking too unrefined, leaving my son and I alone in the courtyard, surrounded by naught by the flowers and the insects that trod on their stems.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"She's scared of you," I looked towards my son, measuring his response.

Dalton nodded, "I know. If she were anyone else, she'd have already been fired."

I frowned, thinking that was somewhat harsh of my son. I hadn't noticed any sort of mistake from her during my time with her, albeit it had been quite short. Had the standards for servants risen?

"Anyone else, hm?" It was good that Dalton had some affection for Doh's daughter. The Booker family had always made for good friends to have in hard times. I would have to ask Macy about a chance to see her father after so long…

I believed that Dresden and I would have much to talk about.

"It isn't a case of nepotism," Dalton interrupted my thoughts. "While her skills as a servant are lacking, her natural talents with memory magic and shapeshifting are good skills to have on standby."

For a moment, I thought about those words, before I smiled. "It is good to have those you can trust, isn't it?"

My son almost missed a step, startled by my words, before he shook his head, "I don't trust her, I just don't think of her as a threat."

"Someone with her talents is always a threat to those that don't trust them to be otherwise," I said. It had been the same, for some time, when I had first met Doh. Despite the circumstances requiring me to risk trusting her far sooner than I might have had otherwise, only a fool would discount her.

"Perhaps," Dalton said, noncommittally. "If there is anything I trust about Macy, it is her incompetence."

"And yet, you trust her talent enough to see her skills as assets," I knew that was a word he would pay attention to. "You believe her capable enough to keep on as a servant due to these skills, but believe her not to be a threat due to her incompetence in using them."

"Father," Dalton's irritation was leaking into his words, "how was your time with the alchemists? I'm confident Jaya treated your fatigue and muscle atrophy?"

I nodded, no intentions on hammering on the earlier subject, "I was given strict guidelines on exercising for the next few weeks to supplement her magic. She said I'll be healthy to travel within less than a month."

"For travel?" Dalton said and I nodded. I wasn't sure when I would depart on my trip to find Daka and Natakia, but I knew that I would eventually need to leave.

We continued to walk and talk about lighter things, with Dalton explaining the renovations of the Tribus Keep, the genius design of the garden and the hard work of the gardener, and many other things that weren't loaded down with the friction of our lost time together.

Until finally, as we reached the end of our walk, sitting down on a stone bench together, Dalton looked off into the distance, away from me, before turning back and meeting my gaze.

"I think going after them is a waste of time, Father."

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

We sat there for a while, his words lingering in the air between us. My son thought that his sisters, pursuing them, was a waste of time. Perhaps I had merely misunderstood or misheard his words?

"Daka is likely dead," Dalton continued, stalling my deliberations. "Skilled or not, could she truly have survived so long out in Rusk alone?"

Daka had run away once before, I remembered now. A rainy night that had shown me one of the first cracks in the happiness that my little warrior had worn so happily on her chest.

I had been there to chase her then, talk to her and be there for her.

My son continued, "Natakia is the Velbrun Oracle now, so even if she wanted to return, the politics involved make it impossible. Of course, she's never visited in the years she's been gone, the last gift we received was her coming-of-age portrait."

I remembered a warning from someone, someone a long time ago that I knew that I barely trusted, even now. A warning that House Velbrun would come for my children, even as House Tribus rose in prominence. A warning I hadn't had the time to heed.

"Do you," my mouth was dry, my words scratchy with emotion, "not want to see your sisters again, Dalton?"

"It isn't…" Dalton went silent for a moment and I dared not look at him. I kept my focus on some nearby flowers, "I have a responsibility as the High Lord Tribus of Gelvurt. When your responsibilities fell to me, I was not as…prepared for them as I thought. I had to focus to keep House Tribus from being strangled in the crib, I still have to."

The political enemies that I had accrued during my time as Lord Velbrun of Gelvurt would not have disappeared after my descent into the obsidian nightmare of my mind. They would have pestered my family, my people, and everything I had fought for.

Did I not have such thoughts before? Times when I had to weigh the importance of fatherhood to the importance of nobility? The responsibilities I had not only to my children, but to the people of the empire? Could I truly fault my son for such thoughts?

No, I realized, there was no fault here. There was no need for fault or judgment. My children had struggled in my absence, but I was here now.

"Thank you, Dalton," I said, reaching out with my arm and hugging him close to my side. "I'm sure words can never truly show how difficult it was for you and your sisters. You've done an amazing job."

"Father?" Dalton looked at me, confused.

I continued, "Daka might be dead? Natakia has no desire to return? I feel it in my heart that they are out there, that they want to come home. And I know that you want to see them again."

"You're being foolish, Father," Dalton frowned, standing up and out of my grip, looking down at me with an uncompromising gaze. "You've only just woke up and you're already making designs to waste your life. You're making a mockery of all the work I've put in for you."

"Dalton, I love all of you so much," I said, standing up and putting a hand on his shoulder. "And I know you never stopped caring for your sisters."

"You can't possibly think that," Dalton said, frowning. His body was still, barely an inkling in the language of his movements regarding how he felt.

Perhaps he had changed, perhaps all of them had, but I trusted that there were ever present truths that had not been marred by time.

"You never stopped having the natakias cared for," I said, looking at the beautiful desert lilies around us, "and I know you would only have such confidence in Daka's demise if you had sent out search parties."

My son sighed, rubbing his forehead. It was the only hint to his growing frustration, Dalton shaking his head as finally bit out his rough words. "Even if you're right, that doesn't change what I said. My sisters were the ones to leave, not me. I stayed, I made Gelvurt great, that was how I endured."

He moved away, my hand sliding off of his shoulder, and began to walk off and out of the garden, before stopping and looking over his shoulder back at me.

"Let me know how your recovery goes, Father," Dalton said, a determined edge to his words. "I'll show you just how far Gelvurt has come once you're able."

And then he was off, but I was relieved even in my sudden loneliness. My son was a hard man, but in his heart there was still love for those around him, no matter how much he denied.

I agreed with my son. I would learn much about all that he'd done from Gelvurt.