The three girls stumbled back into the Scaled Maiden well after last call, when everyone in the tavern should have either gone home or gone to bed. Which was why it was such a surprise when they found Egon and Arden both waiting up for them at the bar. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Valerie wondered if they were in trouble. But that part of her was trying to voice its concerns through a barrier of liquor and endorphins, and she ended up mostly just confused what she was so worried about.

"Dr. Siren!" she greeted. "We're back!"

"So I see," Arden murmured, taking in the state of them at a glance.

They were obviously under the effects of alcohol, but Valerie wondered if he could tell just how drunk they were. She doubted it. She'd learned tonight she could hold her liquor quite well, and List and Kiva were even better.

Unless he had some priestly power that could tell him how drunk they were. She didn't think he did, but she supposed she didn't know everything Arden could do.

"I take it you had fun?" he asked.

"Yes," Valerie nodded vigorously. "Yes. We had so much fun."

"We're drunk," List announced.

"I know."

The hellborn beamed with a victorious pride as she gestured to Valerie. "But look! I brought her back in one piece!"

"So you did. Thank you." Arden said. "If you ladies don't mind however, I would like to have a moment of your time sober."

"I mean, we could dunk our heads in water or something? See if that helps?" List said.

"I've heard getting slapped works," Kiva offered.

Arden grabbed his pendant before either of the girls could do something foolish. "That won't be necessary."

With a prayer from Arden, a cleansing pulse of divine energy passed through all three of them like a hot breeze. Even if it were harder for him as priest of St. Hedwig, Arden could still clear poisons from a person's body, and alcohol counted.

The trio shivered as they were instantly sobered, standing up straighter and getting more focus in their eyes. List and Kiva were pleasantly surprised by the effect. Valerie couldn't quite appreciate it as much, distracted as she was by sudden realization the clarity brought.

Her teacher, a man who had practically raised her, had seen her drunk. Red-faced, zigzag-walking, leaning-on-her-friends-to-avoid-falling-over drunk. She was mortified, and doubly glad she hadn't taken List's suggestions of bringing Daniel home.

"Dr. Siren, I can explain—" she began, but Arden held up a hand.

"I told you and List to have fun. I'm quite aware of what that looks like for young women your age," Arden said. He offered her the smallest of smiles. "However, the three of you did seem on the verge of unconsciousness, and I did want you awake for this."

A spike of excitement rose up in Valerie's chest in time with a cloud of confusion. Arden had done something for her birthday, beyond simply giving her the day off. It was the last thing she'd ever have expected from him, which made it feel all the more special when he turned, presenting something Ego handed him.

It was a small, six-inch round cake, covered in smoothly sculpted white frosting and decorated with chocolate narcissus flowers. Three candles rested at the top, two tall, and one short, and all already lit and twinkling softly in the dim light of the bar.

"It took less work than I expected for the bakery to understand my specifications," Arden said. "Apparently, birthday traditions are here are quite similar to those at home."

Valerie stared at the cake in mute awe. It was exactly the sort of thing she would have expected from a birthday celebration in Corsar. The size. The decoration of her birth month flower. The three candles, representing parents and child.

It was only then, staring at the cake, that it hit Valerie that they had been in Xykesh, away from home, for seven months. When they'd first left, Dr. Siren had warned her they might be gone a long time. But now, she truly felt that time, felt the separation from the place where she'd been born, and her chest ached.

"Dr. Siren . . ." she trailed off, feeling her throat constricting in the beginnings of tears that she had to fight down before continuing. "Thank you."

"Well, go on," Arden said, pushing the cake's plate forward on the bar. "Make a wish."

Valerie stepped forward, but hesitated. Though she was sober again, she still felt some lingering courage from the preceding evening. After an internal debate, she took a chance at a topic that she hadn't discussed with Arden in years.

"Dr. Siren, would you . . ."

The true Corsan tradition was for each person represented by the candles—the child and both parents—to all make wishes together, each blowing out a candle. Since being taken in by Arden, Valerie had been blowing all of the candles out on her own.

But, maybe this year . . .

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"Valerie," Arden said, voice soft but firm. "I'm sorry. I'm not them."

She felt a small pang at the words. A part of her wanted to argue, to ask him to do it anyway for her, but in the end, she chose once again to back down. Arden had already done so much for her. She didn't feel right asking for more.

Instead of pressing the issue, she simply nodded. "Right."

She closed her eyes, and almost on instinct prepared to make the same wish she'd made every year since losing her parents. I wish I wasn't alone.

But then, she remembered the people standing behind her. Kiva and List. Her friends. She had friends now. The thought, right off the back of the painful nostalgia of the cake and Arden's polite refusal of her request, was enough to threaten tears in her eyes all over again. It was only two people. Two girls her age, one of whom she spent significantly less time with, but still. She used to have no one but Arden. Those two meant everything to her.

She supposed now, she needed a new wish.

She hadn't been prepared for that, and it took her a moment to think of something. What did she want? What was she chasing now? It took some thinking, and the wax had started to drip onto the frosting, but eventually, Valerie struck an answer she liked.

I wish that I could make a difference.

Holding that desire in her mind, she blew out all three candles.

"What did you wish for?" List asked immediately.

"If I tell you, it won't come true," Valerie said.

"Says who?"

"I . . . don't actually know. It's just something everybody says."

"Who's everybody?"

"Do you really want to know, or do you just want some cake?"

"Well, since you're offering—"

Egon produced more plates from under the bar, and at Valerie's insistence the cake was five ways to let everyone present have a piece. As everyone was digging in, Arden revealed he wasn't done. The next thing he brought out wasn't a cake, but instead a wrapped parcel, which he also slid toward Valerie.

"This is for you as well," he said. "The headwoman had been rather generous with her compensation for our services, and we've been in one place long enough that I've managed to make small connections to local merchants. It took some doing, but I think the effort will be well worth it."

Valerie took the package eagerly, carefully unwrapping it to avoid tearing the paper. When she got enough of it clear to see what the present was, she gasped.

In Valeries hands was an immaculately stitched, pale gray leather case and attached belt. The faintest smell of ozone came off the leather, and on instinct, Valerie opened the latched top, and stuck her hand in. Her arm sank into the small container past her elbow, and she still couldn't feel the bottom.

"Your own bottomless pocket," Arden said. "Xykesh has them, just like everywhere else on Asher, and it was past time you got better about carrying a wider selection of bolts to deal with unexpected threats. This should make that considerably easier."

"What's the drawing on the front?" List asked, pointing to the engraving on the pocket's face.

It was the image of a shield wrapped in vines, emblazoned with three roses and backed by crossed arrows. Seeing it etched into the leather of her gift, Valerie smiled.

"My family's crest," Valerie answered. In tiny lettering, she could just make out the words in Arcania that translated to the Waymire motto: "Defend the home." The Waymires had been many things over the generations, monster hunting being only their latest profession. But always, those words were at the heart of who they were.

It gave Valerie pride to wear them, and know they were who she was too.

"It's nice," List said, admiring the pocket. Her smile grew smaller the longer she stared at the gift, taking on a wistful air. "Valerie?"

"Hm?"

A frown flickered across List's face, there and gone so quick that if Valerie hadn't been completely sober, she never would have noticed it.

"Nevermind," the hellborn said.

Valerie saw List start to retreat into herself, her tail even curling protectively around her body. This was the second time Valerie had seen List's good mood vanish, and this time, she was determined not to let it go.

"No," Valerie said. "It's alright. You can say it."

List looked around at the others, who were now all staring. Valerie was reminded of her and List's very first meeting, when List hadn't talked to her until Valerie had gotten everyone else to leave. She wanted to do that now.

But List surprised her by continuing anyway, even with the eyes of everyone else on her. "Right. Well. I was just . . . it's your family, so, you don't have to . . . oh fuck this, can I use your family name?"

A stunned silence gripped the room as if List had slapped them all across the face. Arden raised a curious eyebrow. Kiva's eyes went wide. Egon huffed and rolled his eyes. Valerie's jaw was slack.

After a few seconds of nobody saying anything, List kept going. "I don't have a family name. And that's fine, I guess. I don't really need one, since I don't have a family. It's just . . . on Threshart, you called us sisters, so I thought maybe—"

"Yes," Valerie said instantly. She had her arms around List in a hug before either could finish the next breath. "Absolutely, yes."

"Oh," List said. "I mean, good. Thank you."

Valerie glanced at List's tail, expecting to see it dancing in excitement the way it often did when List was trying to play cool while secretly being elated. Instead, she watched it fidget and twist like it was trying to tie itself in a knot.

It took a second for Valerie to remember that there were other people in the room, and List abhorred showing emotional vulnerability in front of people. Asking for a family—admitting she wanted one—had to be utter torture for her.

Which meant Valerie needed to change the subject and tone fast. Luckily, she knew just what would make List feel comfortable right then.

"In that case, I think there's something we should do," Valerie said.

"Oh?" List asked, trying to sound interested, but still clearly uncomfortable.

"Well, one of us has to be the older sister," Valerie said. "And since we don't actually know how old you are, I think there's only one way to settle it."

List's eyes brightened, and this time there was real interest in her voice. "Oh?"

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

Back in their old training field, lit by a few lanterns and the evening stars, Valerie and List squared off against one another, each wielding a pair of sparring batons. Valerie was changed back into her huntress clothes, and List's tattoos were glowing red in the dark as sparks danced across her weapons. Kiva stood between the two of them as their official referee.

"The contest is first touch, best three out of five, for the title of elder sibling!" the dragonblood girl shouted. "List, are you ready?"

The hellborn tossed one of her batons into the air, caught it, and assumed a fighting stance. "Born."

"Valerie, are you ready?"

Valerie carefully slid into her own stance while reminding herself of everything she'd already learned in her previous fight with List. This time, she wouldn't be caught off guard by List's powers. "Always."

Kiva nodded, and slowly raised her hand into the air. At her signal, the Waymire sisters clashed.