We join Order and Pitch, along with his wife, Tylvania, as they receive massages in Liefholn’s royal five star spa.
“-and latter to that he uttered, ‘of what drink do you speak of, chap?’ Pitch says, finishing his joke. Order guffaws ungraciously, a side of her only seen were one her good friend.
“Oh! Oh that’s a good one! That actually happened?” Order asks, lying on her stomach as an elf relieves her stress.
“Most verily so. Is it not so, my Sun?” Pitch asks, looking over to his left to meet his wife to the eyes. Tylvania hums positively, too distracted with the feeling of the masseuse’s hands to pay that much attention to the conversation.
“That’s hilarious, never thought pubs were that lively,” Order says, it being a many year since she’s spent any period of time in one. She usually drinks at home.
“Most true, most true. Hmm,” Pitch pauses a moment in thought, sobering up his expression. “Would you like to, perhaps, initiate our talks. While jovial things are fast more fair, tis these weighty matters we must soon discuss for the good of those we watch over,” Pitch says, raising himself to lean on his forearms. Order takes a gulp from the bottle of wine provided for her and then does the same.
“Alright. Speak your mind, what’re your thoughts on this?”
“Lo, I shall discuss frankly. I hold no animosity to your order, dear Order. The Knights have ever been a trusted friend to our people, from the first day the name of Chaos was written in the blackest parts of our souls, to all the days the dragons attempted to devour what we loved, you were steadfast, and held all of our oppositions under the same blade; a lover of the common cause. While our friendship is good, I worry of the nations you look after. As you have lived longer than any of their kings or lords, so is your wisdom greater. I feel that, perhaps their people have grown tireless, and seek the thrill of blood and conquest. While I would fast dismiss these blood sheddings as those of simple criminal mad-men, the thought that they would come here to do it, and showing such alliance to these nations in question on their person, drives suspicion into my heart. Even should I be certain they were clean of this blood, my people would think differently. You know well how easily the hearts of us longevai creatures are swayed; I feel they would ask for death just the same. If war is to be prevented between the kingdom of the forest and the kingdoms of the plains, the swamps, the snow, and the sand, you and your men must find the identities of our secret foes who have likely planned these grim palings. Understand my words, do you?” Pitch explains, locking his eyes, alight with the glow of fireflies, to Order’s own, shining a duteous golden-yellow. Order nods.
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“Mhmm; we’ll do all we can to prevent the war.”
“Very good. I am curious: would there be any reason you can muster in your mind as to why your dear Western Kingdoms would send killers in such a delicate time?”
“No, I’m almost certain this is a conspiracy to frame them. It would be ridiculous for them to send people covered in their insignia to commit crimes; whoever did this must take us for fools ... And Pitch, why do you say this is a delicate time? Is something happening?” Order asks. Pitch sighs and waves away the servants. The fairy folk quietly file out of the room, leaving Order, Pitch, and Tylvania.
“The High Tea is on the night of tomorrow’s breath. Should there be any assailant, or one to interrupt, we will have missed the grandest opportunity we’ve been offered in centuries,” Pitch says with a solemn look, staring out the window. Order’s gaze intensifies.
“The High Tea; I’ve read of it: an event that happens every few thousands of years in which a creature from an unreachable dimension comes and answers the questions of the first person to meet with it?” Order explains, making sure she has the right event in mind; after all, it’s not often she interacts with fairies, so she might have forgotten. Pitch nods.
“Your mind is as sharp as the chill of Winter, dear Knightess. A first-realmer will descend to our heavenly cube and teach one blessed individual its great knowledge. Should the events and greatness of our planet be gold, this is an event greater than diamonds, of value untellable. You, given such a noble heart, must understand that we can risk no evil entrance into our kingdom, for this meeting especially. Should the wrong life take seat at the first-realmer’s table, no mind could guess the evil that would be caused.”
“So you think someone has found out about The High Tea, and are trying to be the ones to get the knowledge?”
“Verily. My heart is blown on by the winds of uncertainty and truly, I feel a fear only the most deprived and unlucky would know. I pray to the powers of the first realm that my hopes are placed well, for the day next to ours is one to surely be written of, be it in poetry of joy, or of lamentation,” Pitch explains. Order takes a breath in thought.
“I see. I promise we’ll do our best, but at this time that’s all I can say. We don’t know who’s behind this, as most anyone would want the kind of knowledge that’s being offered at The High Tea; I’d guess,” Order says, thinking of at least ten incredibly powerful figures right off the top of her head that would jump at the chance to have any question answered; she being among the ones on the list.
“Thank ye, good soul. Every visit, you renew my hope for your kind. Humans are a strange breed, capable of great good or great evil. Now let us await your Knight’s return, so that we may, too, find what they have,” Pitch says, ringing a bell to recall the servants. Order nods and replaces herself upon her bed. The three of them while away the time, relaxing, telling jokes, and drinking, though they likely wouldn’t admit to it.