The road was empty. It always was at this time of day. With all of the day’s chores done and plenty of time before the evening’s share, there was hardly any reason for people to be out and about. That went double with this cloudless sky letting the summer sun do whatever it wanted up there. The heat was by no means unbearable, but any sort of effort or exertion would be met with immediate and profuse sweating. This sort of atmosphere had the power to drain the motivation of even the hardest-working farmers, tempting them to seek shelter from the relentless rays. It was no wonder why the people called this time of day the ‘lazy afternoon.’ It was as if nature itself was telling them to take a break and chill out.
Ezekiel – Zeke to his friends – took full advantage of the invitation. He was having a nice lie-down under the shade of a mighty tree at the edge of his cherry orchard. A soft yellow-and-orange blanket cushioning his back, a full jug of cool water at his side, a refreshing scent of flowers in the air, and the sight of plump red fruit idly swaying overhead. For a simple man like Zeke, this was almost heaven. The only thing missing was the joyous laughter of children playing in the distance. Alas, that wouldn’t happen here. This plot of land was pretty far from his house, and further still from town. Not to mention there really wasn’t much for a kid to do even if they came all the way out here other than climb his cherry trees, and Zeke would never let them. So, the man was content with the peaceful quiet while it lasted.
It was therefore no surprise he immediately took notice of a passing traveler. With only a simple stone fence separating him from the paved road nearby, he could clearly hear those heavy steps approach. However, something was strange about them. One foot went ‘plop,’ but the other went ‘clink.’ Now, Zeke wasn’t really an expert tracker or anything, but over the years he’d been in this sort of situation plenty of times to tell a thing or two from someone’s footfalls. To his ears, it seemed as though this weirdo wore a sandal on one leg and some kind of armored boot on the other. There was also a slight jingle and rustling of a heavy sack full of tools and equipment. No doubt it was a so-called adventurer, but even those weirdos usually knew how to wear matching shoes. His curiosity piqued, Zeke rose from the ground to get a better look. Peeking over the fence, he was surprised to find a very familiar figure. Standing slightly taller than most men, covered head-to-toe in eye-catching yellow hues, and telltale wooden staff in her bandaged hands, there could be no doubt.
“Oh! Hey there, Sandy!”
He gave the mage his usual greeting, complete with toothy grin and energetic wave. As per usual, the woman simply raised a hand in response and showed no signs of halting her gait. So, the old busybody got off his butt and walked with her on his side of the fence so they could chat. Rural folk didn’t have much other than gossip in ways of entertainment, after all, and Zeke was especially fond of it.
“Heard you went to Ascot Village this time.”
She nodded.
“Should’ve told me on your way out! You know, my son-in-law’s brother knows the mayor over there. Could’ve arranged a royal welcome for you!”
The mage shook her head and waved her hand. Zeke took that to mean ‘there was no need.’
“Ah, don’t be so modest. Aren’t you one of the best mages in town? Someone that amazing needs a fitting reception.”
She just shrugged idly in response.
“Haha! If you say so! Anyway, how’d it go over there?”
The woman stopped, prompting him to do the same. She turned to face him, her single, golden eye locked on his face. She slowly raised her staff, then tapped its bottom against her left leg. It was only when Zeke heard that metallic clink that he finally noticed the reason for those odd footsteps. Granted, he didn’t know the first thing about mages, so it was entirely possible he was jumping to conclusions. However, his intuition told him that she wasn’t using that brass prosthetic by choice.
“Ah,” his voice was grim.
It was rare for this blabbermouth to be at a loss for words, though his silence didn’t last long.
“Thank the prophet you made it out alive.”
Fifteen nodded firmly. On that they were in full agreement, though she’d really rather not talk about it. Especially not with this guy. She wasn’t great at handling his type. She didn’t know why or how, but it felt like she bumped into him whenever she used this road, which was almost every time she went out on a job. There wasn’t much infrastructure this close to the frontier, after all, and most of her work took her to the east, towards the edge of the kingdom’s border. Therefore, it was inevitable she’d walk past this orchard rather frequently, but it was still strange how he always seemed to be around whenever she happened to pass by. Worse yet, he always insisted on chatting even though she barely said anything.
However, that was her own fault. When she first moved here a few years back, she mistook the guy laying on the ground out in the open for a corpse. He was quite old and face-down in a pool of fresh mud, so it was an easy mistake to make. So, she draped a blanket from her homeland over the ‘body’ to preserve their dignity and went to fetch a guard, only to later find out the old fart was just passed out after drinking too much. She visited him the next day to collect her blanket, but couldn’t get a word in as the blabbermouth instantly declared they were friends and showered her with thanks for her lovely gift. It wasn’t intended as a gift. She really wanted her blanket back. However, it was incredibly awkward to ask for it on the spot, and it only got more awkward as time went on. By now she’d completely given up on it and written the misunderstanding off as a lesson on the importance of being assertive. At least he seemed to be taking good care of it.
“And who’s your big, strong friend?”
Zeke’s words yet again caught her off-guard. She was wondering when he’d address the massive saber-tooth walking beside her, but certainly wasn’t expecting such a crisp and casual tone. It was a far cry from the startled and fearful reactions she got from other peasants even though the cloth wrapped around the beast’s left eye and right fore-paw should have made it clear it was by no means wild. No, that was definitely the normal reaction when seeing a creature that large with fangs that huge poking out of its maw. It wasn’t called a ‘saber-tooth’ for nothing, after all. This chatterbox was definitely the weird one for being so nonchalant about the encounter. Then again, he clearly had a very high opinion of Fifteen. It wasn’t hard to imagine he was thinking something along the lines of, ‘It’s fine so long as Sandy is here.’ The woman found this kind of attitude rather annoying, if she had to be honest.
As for the proud apex, he was doing a much better job of ignoring the farmer’s prattle. It wasn’t until he sensed the topic had shifted to himself that he deigned to glance his way. He might have had a stronger reaction if the man’s attitude had been negative, but he could tell it wasn’t. Magical beasts were rather clever, after all, and this one could intuit the tone of one’s words even if he couldn’t understand their meaning. Even that would change as the bond between wizard and familiar grew stronger and the saber-tooth’s intelligence grew, but such things took time. For the moment, the massive mountain lion simply acknowledged Zeke’s presence for a few moments before resuming to scan the sea of cherry trees on both sides of the road.
Seeing as he had neither the means nor the intention to introduce himself, Fifteen did so on his behalf.
“This is Bahm.”
“Bahm, eh? Hmm… Oh, I get it! Sounds like ‘Bang’ and ‘Boom,’ and you do a lot of that out there, don’t you?” he winked wryly.
That really wasn’t what she had in mind when she gave him this name. She was actually thinking of Bahm il-Habar Rashkal, a mighty ruler from her homeland’s history. A kingly beast needed a kingly name, after all, and the saber-tooth seemed satisfied with it. However, all of that was too much of a pain to explain, so she just nodded and resumed walking.
“You seem to be in good cheer, so I guess you managed to get the job done after all.”
Another nod.
“Still on the grind, then?”
A third one.
“As expected. You wizards really are something else. By the way, if you’re not too busy, could you drop by in three days around sunset?”
The mage tilted her head in confusion.
“It’s my birthday, actually. My daughter’s bringing the grandkids over for a visit, and I’d really appreciate it if you showed us all some fireworks. You know, really mark the occasion.”
“No.”
An instant and firm refusal. Magic was dangerous. It wasn’t the sort of thing to be used frivolously. Even though Fifteen made sure to expend some of her power each day, it was to train and regulate her inner fire.
“Aw, come on. I’ll give you some of that jam you like so much. How’s ten jars sound?”
However, it would be another story if it was a proper job.
“Put in a formal request with the guild.”
“Will do,” he smiled broadly. “Thanks, Sandy. You take care of yourself out there!”
The wizard-familiar pair continued on their way as the farmer waved them off and then returned to his napping spot. Bahm didn’t even wait until he was out of sight before he threw the woman a stern look.
“Cherry jam is an excellent source of energy.”
He wasn’t convinced in the slightest. The magical bond between them made them intimately familiar with the other’s thoughts and feelings, so both of them were aware that she was simply a glutton for sweet things. At the same time, Fifteen was certain nobody at the guild or the church would give her crap over such a minor indiscretion. She technically wasn’t doing anything wrong and it certainly wouldn’t bring any witch hunters to her door, especially with her glowing track record. Bahm didn’t understand such complex things and only got a general sense of ‘I did something naughty, but it’ll be alright’ from the human. She seemed confident, so he trusted her judgment and didn’t press the issue further. He instead looked back to the cherry trees once more.
It really was a bizarre sight to the mountain-dwelling feline. He’d never seen such vibrant fruit, let alone ones charged with magical power. It was only a hint of it, but Bahm could sense it much like the wizard besides him. It was odd, but then again, humans were odd, and this was their realm, so he assumed that was just how things were around these parts. The saber-tooth wasn’t the only visitor to think his way. Most outsiders would find this bounty strange, in fact. Cherries weren’t usually as large as plums, nor were their trees anywhere this big. Such impressive sizes were only made possible through the efforts of the local mages and alchemists who regularly enriched the soil. Bountiful harvests full of sweetness and nutrition were the result. It was a local speciality, which should come as no surprise given the name of the settlement at the heart of this sea of green and red.
Cherrytown was the largest town in the region. Though it paled in size compared to the cities in the kingdom’s heartlands, it was without a doubt the most impressive human settlement on the frontier. It was large enough to offer a variety of services, facilities, and entertainment, but not so huge as to invite issues like congestion or pollution. It was far from idyllic considering the inherent danger of living in a frontier region where the wilderness was untamed and lawlessness was more prevalent. However, that was precisely why the mages’ guild – officially known as the Ordo Mystica – had such a strong presence here. The kingdom’s heartlands were often seen as ‘too peaceful’ by wizard-kind. Many of them felt an instinctive need to challenge themselves and refine their craft. The compulsion wasn’t something as basic as a thirst for power with sinister motives. Such individuals certainly existed, but for most mages it manifested as a desire for self-improvement, a thirst for knowledge, or a passion for the craft. In the past, many practitioners likened this drive to that of a jeweler carefully grinding away at a raw gemstone just to see it shine the brightest it can. It was this analogy that eventually gave rise to the modern, commonly-used nickname for this wizardly impulse – the grind.
That said, given that spell-slingers were about one in a thousand, the general populace remained largely ignorant on what magic actually was and what it was capable of. That was true even in a place like Cherrytown, where mages were ten times more common than usual. Though the general awareness of the mystical arts was proportionally higher, very few were aware of the details and specifics surrounding familiars. Sure, it wasn’t uncommon to see some robe-wearing, pointy-hatted, staff-toting individual walk around with an animal companion like a raven, owl, or even a crab. However, a massive feline predator with fangs likened to sabres? That was well beyond what most people would consider a familiar. Even those in the know would find it hard to believe such a powerful beast would submit itself to a human.
It was therefore entirely natural that Fifteen and Bahm caused quite a bit of commotion as they walked down Cherrytown’s main road in broad daylight. If it wasn’t for the two armed guards in front and the matching pair behind, the pedestrians’ reaction would have been a lot more severe than worried whispers and surprised shouts. Indeed, that loudmouth farmer was definitely the weirdo for being so calm in front of a saber-tooth. Speaking of, Bahm was quite conflicted. Part of him was uneasy having this many eyes stare at him. The urge to flee and hide was quite strong. He also had the dignity of a mountain’s ruler, but this civilized environment was too alien and made his wild instincts too loud to ignore. The only reason he was able to walk with confidence instead of fleeing like a coward was because of his mental link to Fifteen. This mass aversion was more extreme than usual, but still very much in line with the reception she normally got as a famous fire-flinger. She was far more comfortable with this fearful reverence than idle chatter like that guy, and that feeling helped her familiar stay cool and collected.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Their destination, unsurprisingly, was Cherrytown’s branch of the mages’ guild. The main building was an imposing three-story structure with thick stone walls and fancy tall windows. Its size was the third-largest in town, exceeded only by the cathedral and the governor’s castle. It and the surrounding campus were obscured by a sturdy brick wall topped with brass spikes. A metal plaque by the main gate proudly declared this was indeed the local office of the Ordo Mystica. It also bore some famous words from the Book of Dawn – ‘So long as the Heavens remain quiet, humanity’s faith must ever be aimed inward.’ It was a nice sentiment that urged people to trust themselves and each other over some distant, intangible power. It also more or less encompassed the guild’s mission statement. Magic was a precious gift to be wielded for the sake of one’s fellow man first and foremost. It was therefore frowned upon to waste that miraculous power on something like a fireworks show for a farmer’s birthday, but Fifteen was used to getting ‘frowned upon’ by her fellow wizards. They didn’t like her foreign customs and antisocial behavior, but few could argue with her results.
“Should’ve known what the fuss was about.”
“Is that a bloody saber-tooth?!”
“Prophet preserve me, here we go again…”
As expected, she was met with voices of dissent the instant she stepped into the main building. She couldn’t blame them, though. She’d also be quite miffed if someone else brought this much attention to their workplace, but it couldn’t be helped. She had a familiar now, and the guild clearly stated such things had to be declared and registered. That said, it wasn’t as though hiding her connection with Bahm was impossible. Indeed, to her knowledge there existed no magic that could prove whether a wizard had a familiar or not. It would have been a simple matter to ask the saber-tooth to simply prowl in the nearby wilderness and stay out of sight until she needed his help on a job. He certainly didn’t need her to look after him. If anything, he would have nothing of it. Bahm was a proud apex and insisted on being self-sufficient as much as possible. He had no trouble securing food, water, and shelter for himself during the trip back from Ascot Village, and would continue to do so in Cherrytown’s outskirts if he had to.
That said, other than making a bit of a scene, there was no real reason for Fifteen to hide her new companion. If anything, she wanted to rely on the guild should issues arise. She already had an incident where Bahm ate a farmer’s chicken since he didn’t understand the concept of domestic animals. The sorceress tried to explain it, but quickly found that was a lost cause. There was probably a way to make the concept sink into his skull, but for now it was best if she had some backing in case he unwittingly caused trouble in civilized areas. There were other concerns on her mind. To her knowledge, nobody had tried taking such a high-class creature as a familiar. Given the two-way nature of the bond, there was a chance either of them might suffer some side-effects, in which case she’d need her guildmates’ help to deal with them. It really was in both their interests to be upfront with the authorities, and bearing with her colleagues’ grumblings was a small price to pay.
Besides, it wasn’t as if all of them were unhappy to see her.
“Well, well. Welcome back, Acolyte Two-Fifteen.”
The receptionist greeted her with the usual warm smile. Her name was Daisy Rottethal, and she looked to be very much in her prime. Her skin and voice were smooth as silk, and her blonde hair was styled in a pair of braids that rested on her shoulders. She had an attractive face and shapely figure that would make most people think she was in her early twenties. Her outfit was standard for female staff members – a long sleeved white shirt with a few frills around the neck and sleeves combined with a loose knee-length black skirt. Her piercing blue eyes didn’t even twitch as she glanced between Fifteen and the large beast that calmly walked beside her as they approached her desk.
“Hello, Daisy,” the sorceress stiffly greeted her.
“I see you’ve more or less gotten used to your prosthetic. Any discomfort or complaints?”
As well-informed as usual, wasn’t she?
“None.”
“That’s good to hear. And the status of your job?”
Fifteen silently handed her the receipt signed by the mayor of Ascot Village. What was his name again? Mathew? Michael? Something like that. She was never very good at remembering faces or names, and peasants all kind of looked the same.
“Well, well,” Daisy spoke as she checked the document. “It seems the client was very satisfied with your performance. Good work, Acolyte Two-Fifteen.”
“Thank you.”
“Here is your reward, with a small bonus from the guild,” the receptionist handed over a wooden lockbox. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Yes. Familiar registration.”
“Well, well. So that’s what this kitten’s doing here, hmm?”
She focused her gaze on Bahm for the first time since he walked into the lobby. So far the massive feline was content to sit quietly by the mage’s side and didn’t react to her earlier glances, but its instincts flared up the instant it met that scrutinizing stare. It rose to its feet, bore its fangs, and growled in a clear sign of aggression, but calmed rapidly once it felt the reassuring hand on its flank. The vague feeling of ‘it will be fine so long as you stay put’ was successfully transmitted, and so the proud apex dialed its agitation down to simple wariness. Incidentally, the other regulars in the library-like lobby didn’t even bat an eye at the wild beast acting up.
A mere saber-tooth truly was little more than a helpless kitten in this place.
“Very good,” the receptionist looked back at the flame-flinger. “I’ll send word to the inspector. In the meantime, fill out this form.”
“Thank you.”
Fifteen grabbed the document and shifted to the side of the large desk so Daisy could service the next person in line. Granted, there was nobody behind her at the moment, but it was vitally important for sanctioned mages to observe proper etiquette on guild grounds. The paperwork itself was quite straightforward. It asked for the familiar’s name, description, the circumstances around which it was acquired, and for what purpose the wizard bonded with it. That last one stumped Fifteen. Why did she exchange blood with this furball? The ritual certainly saved the beast’s life, but why did she go that far? A sense of gratitude for saving her life? That was definitely a factor and a solid enough reason on its own, yet there was something else to it. The bonding ritual was a very spur-of-the-moment decision, and she was certain it made sense then, so why was she struggling to recall the specifics?
A sheltered flame doesn’t grow.
The words her old pyromancy teacher drilled into her floated to the surface. It took a while since she was tired from the trip, but she eventually remembered the reason. She did it to take a step into the unknown, to push her limits and seek ever-greater heights. Or, as some might put it, to stay on the grind. Such vague wording didn’t belong on a document that might be scrutinized in future, so she described her motivations and expectations as a long-term experiment. It seemed to be sufficient as Daisy didn’t say anything while she was checking the form.
“Very good. Report to the beast pen out back, inspector should be there shortly.”
“Thank you.”
The so-called ‘beast pen’ was little more than a fenced-off rectangle of trampled dirt with a few empty cages on one end. About two dozen hurdles, poles, blocks, and pits made up an obstacle course that took up most of its area. It was intended as a place for the guild’s domesticated creatures, magical or otherwise, to run around and burn off some energy. It stood empty most of the time. Cherrytown wasn’t a good place for beast tamers and most familiars were small enough to get their exercise anywhere around town. The saber-tooth that Fifteen brought in was the first intended ‘customer’ this facility had seen in a while and Bahm was, to put it bluntly, unimpressed.
The inspector Daisy mentioned showed up about ten minutes later. He was called Rufus Blackball, and he was just as short, plump, and shaggy as his name implied. Fifteen was well-acquainted with the guy, and was therefore surprised to see him. She knew Rufus as one of the many alchemists with ties to the guild and occasionally visited his shop to stock up on elixirs and oils. She had no idea he was also the resident expert on magical beasts. His spectacled eyes practically shone when he saw Bahm and he showed little hesitation while performing his inspection. It was more accurate to call it a check-up, making sure the familiar was in good health and wasn’t carrying any strange diseases. Bahm wasn’t thrilled about it at first, but understood it was for his own good and let it happen. This was fortunate since they’d have to repeat the process every six months to comply with guild regulations.
“Specimen seems to be in perfect health,” Rufus declared. “Or, well, as good as can be expected, considering the circumstances of its acquisition.”
He had the form Fifteen had submitted earlier inside his open notebook as he had to fill it out with results of his inspection, which saved her a good deal of explaining.
“Can the eye be fixed?” she cut straight to her biggest concern.
“I’m afraid not. The black dragon’s venom completely ruined it. There is a slight chance your bond triggers a spontaneous recovery as it matures, but I wouldn’t count on it. If anything, it’s a miracle the eyeball didn’t melt out of its face. Only surefire way to restore its vision is to commission an artificer to make a replacement, but I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how insanely expensive that would be.”
She expected this, but was nevertheless disappointed.
“No worries, though,” he reassured her. “Saber-tooths are remarkably adaptable for creatures of their class, and this is a prime specimen to boot. I suspect its nose and ears are already making up for the shortfall in vision even without the aid of your bond. We will know for sure once I have finished my examinations.”
“I see. And these?”
She placed a hand on the blackened stripes of fur covering Bahm’s otherwise orange mane.
“The burn scarring won’t go away. If anything, it’ll only get worse as its attunement to your fire attribute grows stronger. You should know all about that. At least your blood succeeded in burning out all of the black dragon venom. Nasty, stubborn stuff, that is. You really shouldn’t challenge one of those without an appropriate antidote.”
That piece of ‘advice’ irked Fifteen. She wasn’t some fresh-faced twinkle-fingers straight out of the academy. She knew full well that preparedness was everything to a mage. If anything, she wouldn’t have taken the Ascot Village job at all if she knew what the hell she was getting into. She hated dragons the same way most commoners hated mosquitos, and just thinking about those vermin made her blood simmer. Her companion sensed that displeasure, and it compounded with some of his own, prompting a quiet growl.
“Uh, was it something I said?”
Rufus instantly grew nervous. No, it was more accurate to say he’d been on pins and needles this entire time and was simply doing a very good job of hiding it until now. Though he was well-read on saber-tooths, this was the first time he had been this close to a live one. Yes, it was a familiar, but it didn’t seem like its master had total dominion over it. The odds of getting mauled to death were slim, but not zero.
“Bahm is a proud apex,” Fifteen explained. “He does not appreciate you treating him like a ‘specimen.’”
“I… I see. My… apologies, I guess?”
The saber-tooth turned his head in a way that made Rufus swear he could hear a ‘harrumph!’
“In… any event,” he readjusted his spectacles, “this is quite unprecedented. If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep close tabs on both of you, with frequent check-ups.”
“I mind,” she bluntly stated.
“Ah. That is, erm, understandable. Still, I hope you will come to see me the instant either of you notice any unexpected side-effects.”
“Why?”
“To help you, of course! I may not be a wizard, but as an apothecary I should be able to alleviate any discomfort or irritation, maybe even remove any malignant consequences. Naturally, I expect to be compensated for my efforts and will be offering a discount for the opportunity to document your development.”
Fifteen was an exceedingly private person and wasn’t comfortable with a mere acquaintance poking his fat nose into her personal matters without good reason. ‘Unexpected side-effects’ were a very good reason, and this was precisely the type of support she sought from the guild by registering Bahm. It didn’t seem as though the ‘research opportunity’ portion was negotiable, but the promised discount was welcome. She only needed to consider his offer for a few moments before she agreed with a simple, “Alright.”
“Thank you,” he sounded relieved. “If I’m not at the guild, you can probably find me at my family’s shop.”
She nodded as the Bubbling Cauldron floated into her mind’s eye. Or, the name of it, at least. She struggled to recall much about the bog-standard storefront, but that was a good thing. Her memory tended to be most vivid when it came to negative experiences, and she didn’t have any of those at the Bubbling Cauldron. It was honestly quite fortunate that their work was adequate since the only reason she started going there was because it was recommended to her by another artisan she frequented. It would be extremely awkward to visit him again if the establishment he vouched for failed to meet Fifteen’s standards.
“Ah.”
That train of thought reminded her of another matter she needed to take care of.
“Are we done here?”
“No, not at all,” Rufus checked his notebook. “That was just the initial examination. I still need to examine the spe– your friend’s mental and physical abilities. Granted, I’m not sure how to score a saber-tooth since I’ve never heard of one taking these tests, but I’ll figure it out.”
“Will that take long?”
“About two hours. Maybe three.”
That would mean spending the rest of the day here, which wasn’t in Fifteen’s calculations. She had some other matters she wanted to attend to while the sun was up. None were urgent, but she’d rather handle those chores than sit around here waiting for Bahm to run in circles. Actually…
“Is my presence required?”
“That depends. Can your friend behave and follow my instructions without you?”
That was a very good question that raised another.
“Verbal instructions?”
“No. I don’t expect a fresh familiar to understand language, but hand gestures usually do the trick. I’ve got quite a bit of experience doing this, you know. I’d say obedience is a bigger issue than communication.”
“Understood. A moment.”
Fifteen and Bahm locked eyes for a few silent seconds. He briefly looked at Rufus, then did another ‘harrumph’ motion. She crossed her arms defiantly. He leaned in, shoving his muzzle into her personal space while baring his formidable fangs. She mirrored the motion, putting her masked face so close that they were literally nose-to-nose. He let out a growl. She breathed a puff of steam. He backed off and sat down in a distinctly dignified manner. She sighed and lightly shook her head.
“Bahm will obey.”
Fifteen’s blunt words caused Rufus to suddenly gasp for air. He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until now. This was the first time he’d seen anything like this.
“What… was that?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“What?” the sorceress was confused.
“That! The stare-down! The growling!”
“Just a discussion. Don’t worry about it.”
A discussion? With a familiar? That was a thing? In his experience, familiars either obeyed without question or outright refused. Typically the former, with the latter reserved for blatantly suicidal orders or creatures that were coerced or tricked into servitude. In both cases there was no room for discourse. However, the Sage of the Sands was an honest woman whose few words were chosen carefully and packed with intent. Or at least that was the impression Rufus had of her.
“So, Bahm will obey?” he asked warily.
“Bahm will obey,” she repeated with a nod.
“I see,” he relaxed. “If you insist, then we should be fine to carry on without you.”
She gave him another firm nod and turned around to leave the guild grounds with one additional chore on her list. Much as she told Rufus, that was indeed a discussion. Unsurprisingly, Bahm wasn’t all that keen to take orders from someone he perceived as a ‘squishy boulder.’ Fifteen was able to curry his favor and buy his obedience with the promise of fresh fish. It was a saber-tooth’s preferred meal, and he hadn’t had the chance to catch any since his old home was experiencing a drought and there were no fishing spots on the trip to Cherrytown. Thankfully, the settlement was near a fairly large river, so fulfilling her end of the bargain was a simple matter of swinging by a fishmonger’s stall. Actually, it might be prudent to take care of that first. It would be embarrassing if she failed to keep a promise because it slipped her mind, and Fifteen couldn’t help but notice she’d been rather forgetful today.
Though, in her defense, it had been a very long trip, and she was looking forward to curling up in bed and sleeping like a rock.