"You should do it." Mother left the room and padded down the hall.

Parcival nudged him a little on his arm. "Father."

Father's eyes opened slow and sluggish and he blinked. "You have a lot to answer to, boy." He wiped a line of sweat that trailed down his temple.

"I need your help," an unwanted waver escaped into his voice.

Father breathed a harsh breath through his nose. "You were to report back immediately, with a letter or send a magicked one. What happened that you'd risk a demotion?" He pulled himself up, and the quilt komoto slid off, after he adjusted and sat on his knees he pulled it about him.

"Beg your pardon, but there's no time. As we speak a mage of at least rank ten is hanging from a tree at Beeka's temple and a friend has gone missing." Have to tell him later right now would take too long, explaining Merryn was going to prove difficult.

Father leaned forward a hair. "Rank ten you say?"

"Yes."

"I'll make sure to send some doshen to take care of him."

"He's dangerous, and has caused us plenty of trouble." And then some. If there was only more time to explain! Parcival dug his fingers into his legs. Calm down.

Father nodded. "They'll have anti-magic rings on, should be fine."

Right then father stiffened some and his jaw set. Thank the gods, finally. This usually meant that he was thinking about things. Strangers tended to think of him as angry when he got like this.

He sat quiet, at some point father would talk again. It wasn't wise to even speak when he became like this. Hope he doesn't take too long, every minute that passed meant Merryn would be further away. Could be hurting people, in trouble, or whatever the god would make her do. He rubbed his chin. She often became lost in thought, before it seemed like a quirk. She also tended to mutter at nothing. She's either crazy. Unlikely. Or possessed. Also unlikely, it didn't seem quite like a normal possession.

"Parcival, pay attention boy!"

"What did you say?"

Father snorted. "You wake me up out of a sound sleep after days of fighting—" He waved a hand around. "To not even bother to listen, have you picked up disrespectful bad habits out there now?" He shifted and sucked in a quick breath. 'Uhhg."

Parcival hung his head. "My apologies, father." He's injured and sick, need to hurry this up.

He yawned. "I said, that the angry spirits must be sent to rest somehow, and I want you to find out what's upsetting them so," he said, "and, is it true?"

"True?" Not the statue, not the statue...

Father smiled. "That you brought a woman home?"

"Um. Oh-You, see..." He froze. This is worse than the statue. He's going to start up the marriage and family line bit again!

Mother came back in with a tray of fish sausages. "I thought you might like a nibble." She sat the tray down and pushed it between them. She squeezed his hand.

Father's face and eyes softened. "I'm fine, go take a break I know you haven't slept."

"Oh, I don't really need to. There's so much to do the damage to the house..." Mother picked a fuzzy on her sleeve.

Father muttered then sighed. "It would please me."

She gave him a side-eye. "And.. it would please me if you would rest again."

Their conversations were always... interesting.

A lip twitched in father's mouth. "You first, I need to catch up with things."

She made her lashes flutter excessively, and yawned. "I'm so tired all of a sudden, you're right I'll head to bed. Such a kind husband." She got up went to the screen, turned around, and winked before leaving.

Father's nose twitched, and he rubbed it hiding a smile.

"Are there any provisions left in the store room?" Work, please.

Father slammed his fist into his palm. "Go take what you need, and after bring the woman here, there's much to discuss."

"Thank you. That may not be possible, she..." He paused and rubbed his neck. "Is under some kind of force or spiritual control."

His eyes widened, and he coughed. "Urhurl's curses. I didn't think that it was just the provisions you needed, I hoped it was but I supposed not what with hell breaking loose as of late."

Father always was quick to catch on. "Yes, I need you to make a conscription draft so Opial and Beeka can help me go after her, I fear she may be... unintentionally wreaking havoc."

Father chuckled. "Should have asked me this first. fine, go fetch me a scroll, ink, and brush over there." He held a palm out towards the small desk by the wall. That's new, before there was a shelf there, it looks to be from the south not of oak or pine. "Fix this quickly before people notice."

Parcival stood went over and brought the items back laying them by Father's side. He tapped the scroll it unrolled and became flat and hard. He dipped the brush in the ink and wrote a couple of paragraphs then signed it. The scroll rolled back up becoming paper again.

He whistled. "That's new when did you learn that?"

"Not long ago friends of the Shōgun graced us with a visit and taught me the spell." He straightened and his chest puffed out. "It was a gift for collecting the taxes on time for the past few years." He handed over the scroll, then his demeanor turned stern again as the smile faded away. "If what I suspect is true it won't be a happy meeting if the rumors hold any water. Someone has to answer for the loss of lives and damage caused."

Parcival took the scroll and tucked it away in the hidden tunic breast pocket. Everything was going so badly. "She could be anywhere by now," he said.

"Find her and bring her back, along with that Maxwell fellow. I promise things will be as fair as possible." He looked down and to the side. "I never said this but, if you vouch for her I'll convince the council members to be more lenient."

Parcival huffed. "That's assuming she did cause this, I don't think she's at fault, father."

"Then it should not be an issue bringing her before the council. Good, it's agreed. Now, find out what's really going on, and bring the outs-visitors back." Father's face turned a dark red and he coughed violently.

"Mother!"

Mother rushed back in her hair a mess and soapy water dripping from her long sleeves. "Oh! Again! I'll be right back, hold on." She ran out, then reappeared a moment later carrying a fresh bowl of steaming water, a tea pot balanced on her head, and a cup in her free hand. She deftly took the teapot down along with arranging everything else on a wooden try and went to make father a cup of tea, then handed it to him.

Father locked eyes with her, and his eyes shone. He gently took the cup and sipped. He breathed out a hot breath and smiled. "Thank you, love."

Mother patted his hand and then left again.

Parcival rose and before exiting turned his head. "I'll do you proud."

"You already have." He chuckled. "Worry less about that and figure this mess out, this red tape is a fine knot of lizard tails." He took another sip of tea before laying down again.

Parcival left quietly and padded out into the main hall, mother was waiting for him, she held a large pouch in her hands. "I overheard a little when I passed the room the other time, and went and got you some provisions."

He bowed. "That's really thoughtful, thank you."

"It's nothing. There are a few opials in there too should you need anything." She frowned. "So many people have died the last few days, your father hides it but he's terribly worried and cares more about them than he lets on."

He hung his head. "If only more could have been saved."

"It is what it is, just have to take each day as it comes."

He nodded. "Yes. I'll come back as soon as I can." If I can come back at all...

About thirty minutes later he went back inside Beeka's temple. Would have been here faster, but the detour to the merchant district added time. As Merryn's pendent broke then that ment if she hopefully returned to normal she'll need this translation bracelet. He placed it in his boot.

Two dōshin brought Maxwell down off the branch, his eyes were closed and he sat cross-legged. They roughly pulled him to his feet and another went behind him and shoved him in the direction of the entrance.

"There's no need for that, treat the prisoner with respect!" They saluted by tapping their chests. "As you say, Parcival-sama."

Maxwell cracked an eye open, some gray dust fell off a small scratch and he ever so subtly turned his head toward his staff that had rolled into a wet patch of grass, the staff lifted off the ground.

Parcival strode over and stomped on it, the movement made his chest wounds start to weep and sting.

"I didn't suppose it'd work." A corner of his lip twitched.

"Not this time. I've about had enough of fighting you."

He shrugged, quite the feet considering how far back his shoulders still were. "How about it?" He wiggled his fingers and moved his arms.

Parcival glared at him. "Now supposed I did that and you started more trouble or escaped?"

"I won't be escaping anywhere with this dislocated shoulder and lack of spiritual energy to cast anything. Where's all that respect you just talked about?" A leg of his folded under him, and he hissed. "Koorns curse!"

The dōshin righted him back to standing. The looks on their faces were something akin to wanting to let him fall or punch him.

He hesitated. Highly likely it was a trick, but if it wasn't it wouldn't matter much if his hands were in front or back. He bent down picked up the staff and shook the water and grasses off.

"Do it, get his hands in front of him." He smirked. "But, do so by having him bend down and put his feet though, leaving him bound."

The dōshin's faces lit up and they grinned. "Got ya!" The rounder one that stood behind Maxwell held him now by the waist. "Bet ya thought you were being clever eh?"

Maxwell turned his face to the side with eyebrows raised. "I don't think so I am. You'll do well to remember that, you boorish fool."

The dōshin—Masato that was was his name!—arms and hands shook and his ears turned red. "Do. Not. Call me that again." They roughly helped him bring his feet though and his hands to the front.

"Maxwell, while you may have a translation spell on it still doesn't help with certain subtly, I'd advise staying away from insults, or people will be less than respectful to you." He dismissed them. "Take him to the holding house and make sure he stays there."

Maxwell eyed his staff for a short span before they took him away. "What to do with this?" He brushed some mud that had caked off on the staff. Destroying it wasn't an option as it was evidence of his mischief and the power inside would most likely explode and destroy the city, or at least part of it. "I don't have time for this!"

Would be great if there was access to the pools from here but, only Beeka knew the way so that won't work. Just have to bring it with you. He wandered over to the entrance, picked up the pace, and headed straight for the merchant district, they always had cloth for sale, or maybe something even better...

Even at a fast walk, it took about a quarter of an hour to get there as the assorted wounds had become stiff and sore, with strange gray skin that flaked off as he moved.

A short while later he finished haggling with a young merchant over an extradentary long-back hosted scabbard that fit the staff perfectly, it stayed in nice and snug. He hoisted it on. Good, that'll keep it out of the way and there's no risk of Maxwell getting it when nobody's watching. Only a fool thought prisoners were watched every second. Ha.

He scratched at an itchy stiff spot on his chest. Need a shower and a good soak after this is done. He reached over with his hand closed, dropped a medium opial into the merchants waiting spread palms, and walked away. Merryn had heeded this way. He mentally marked the area in his head and headed back to fathers house, Beeka and Opial should be awake now. Luck willing.

His fingers stiffened and curled up as he walked, they took on a gray sheen. He shuttered and walked faster.