To think that things will always be available and stay exactly the same is to believe the lie. One never knows the wealth of water till the river run dry.

                                  - Elder Starbina Rushwater

The sun began to dip below the twin stone towers. The bright yellows changed and shifted to orange. From one of the towers, a bell clanged twice and a lone pre-teen-looking boy found a seat. He wiggled his rear as his fingernails dug into the wood and gouged out slivers. After examining the wood he tossed it off the room to the ground below.

A pair of black pennants, decorated with a silver moon crest that was intertwined with a spiky vine, capped the top of the towers. Each gust of wind caused the pennant to snap loudly.

The young man continued to stare, unblinking, at the shifting colors and occasionally stopped to pull slivers of wood from under his fingernails.

A second figure, a burley and unshaven man, huffed as he pulled himself up and over the wooden roof and shook his head. He pushed his brown hair from his face and around his ear. Streaks of silver ran through his hair and beard. Sitting down next to the teen boy his knees popped.

“I finally found you…” the older-looking man said in a gravelly voice. “By Viz’s furry cunt, vhy are you here and nod getting ready for ze meeting?”

The younger-looking teen sat back on his arms and continued to watch the sky change colors.

“Deador, you know you shouldn’t talk ill of the gods like that,” he said as his feet dangled over the roof. “And especially about your own. Since you asked, I came up here to monologue.”

“Nothing good ever comes of vhen you zink,” Deador said as he snorted and shook his head.

Deador squinted his golden eyes blocking out the final rays of the sun. Turning his attention to his pockets, he fished out a few stones and separated them according to size. Once he finished, he picked up two stones and tossed them down.

He continued till the younger-looking guy placed his hands over the piles and asked, “What in Umbriel’s name are you doing?”

“I’m trying to see if ze heavier stone will hit the ground first, since you are wasting time, I figuret I’d do ze same, Uriel,” Deador said as he slipped out a pair of stones from under his hand and threw them over.

Uriel say back on his arms again and watched the pennants flap in the breeze.

As he glanced back at his companion and back to the pennants and said, “Well according to the Wise Moon and her students, both of the rocks will land at the same time.”

“Yeah well rememb back in Gamsbin vhen we jumped out of the palace tower, I landet before you, now explain zat one away,” Deador said and tossed another set of stones over the edge. “See heavy objects fall fast!”

Uriel rolled his eyes.

After tossing the remaining stones over Deador asked, “So vhat vere you thinking about up here anyway?”

“Are we to the point of the story where I give the audience my soliloquy? Well then…” Uriel said as he coughed to clear his throat. “It’s better to the necessity to see a well filled with water or a purse crammed with coins than to be without. Alas, the final gift of the Royal Sun is to bless me with a dazzling array of colors and Seza’s blessing of life to drink in the display with my eyes.”

Deador grunted and he turned his attention to the guards closing the gate. The bells rang out twice the doors were shut. A pair of guards carried a wooden bean over their shoulders and barred the doors. He noted they all wore tunics similar to the pennant and began sorting out the night sentries from those leaving the day shift.

“A sunsed is still the same damnet sunset, vhether it’s today, tomorrow, or yesterday,” Deador replied. “It means nothing if this one has a bid more red today or ze one tomorrow has a bit less orange.”

“The way the fading light hits the pennant, is it nobler for the mind to wonder if this dying light is a sign of things to come? What tiny object, the pennant, yet can alter the light, as easily as one may do to a young heart. It is the minuscule details that are missed by the blind eyes of man. We…” he said turning to Deador and narrowing his eyes. “Mustn’t ignore nor take details for granted.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The bell rang one more time, and sentries climbed up ladders to take up positions along the walls. Other guards milled about before heading off to various destinations within the walls of the mansio.

“In my folly I expected my situation to remain everlasting like the mountain, and not like the rays of the sun,” Uriel said holding up his hand to catch the final rays of the sky. “The arrows of misfortune have struck me down and left me alone and without my cast.”

Uriel hung his head low and buried his face in his hands. The sky continued to shift as the oranges gave way to dark blues and purples, and the final rays of sunlight relinquished to the canopy of night.

“Vell, after this mess is all over and done with, I’m going to miss these little talks of ours,” Deador said snorting. “Sun’s down, let’s get into character.”

Uriel's attention snapped to Deador and he raised a curious eyebrow.

“By Vic’s six tits, I’m starting to sound like you,” he muttered as he jumped off the roof.

The gravel crunched below his feet. Deador was the first to land and Uriel landed next to him. They went around to the front of the tavern and opened the door. Once inside they noticed that four of the guards were in the corner sitting with full tankards of ale. A sentry with a long black beard gave them a slight nod. Deador returned the nod with a two-finger salute.

Deador then spied an older man with the woman with fewer lines on her face. She gently stroked her nails on his fingers. Next to them was a pre-teen girl with mocha-colored skin who was ignoring the man’s attempt to wave her away.

“I have pretty Thornwood flowers for your pretty lady, Patronus,” she kept repeating.

“Get those foul-smelling things from my sight,” he said in a gruff voice.

Deador flicked his nose toward the flower girl and clicked his tongue. When Uriel glanced up at him, Deador winked back at him.

“As the naive actress said to the dirty old director, I’m uninterested in performing a bedroom scene,” Uriel replied.

Snickering, Deador cracked a smile and held out his hand to a pair of empty seats in the center of the room. He dragged the wooden chair across the floor slowly. Wood scraped against wood as the bartender, sentries, and flower girl all watched him. He stretched spreading his arms wide and planted himself on the chair with a loud sigh.

Silence fell upon the room. Deador smiled and nodded to the patrons and snapped his fingers.

“Service please,” he said waving a few coins in the air and slamming them on the table.

The bartender muttered something under his breath and called for the barmaid. A gangly maid with long skinny arms appeared from the back room and dragged herself to their table. One of the sentries eyed Deador, sipping slowly on the ale from his mug.

“The way you captivate an audience is awe-inspiring,” said Uriel.

Deador flicked his hand, snapping up a coin from the table. Next, we closed his hand and made two fists, and began to flip a coin between his fingers from one hand to the other. The flower girl watched the coin move back and forth. She stopped talking to the couple and walked over to Deador and Uriel.

With a big smile on her face, she softly asked, “Would you like to buy some nice Thornwood flowers, or if you prefer ice lilies, Patron…”

He pulled up the cuff of his shirt, showing her a pair of steel bracers with a golden wolf skull clutching a dagger in its mouth. The two-star rubies, mounted in the eyes of the wolf, stared back at her.

“Ist Graf,” he said palming the silver coin from his hand. “I don’d neet any flovers, bud here’s a few cuprums for your troubles, kind.”

Deador extended his fingers, showing her, he had nothing in his hand. Then reached behind her ear and produced two copper coins and gave them to her. Uriel began sniffing the air and cocked his head to the side inquisitively.

“Don’d vaste your time vit dem,” Deador said motioning towards the couple. “Ze old man too busy pretending thad he ist a vild stallion.”

The girl curtsied and pocketed the copper coins. The barmaid plopped down two mugs in front of Uriel and Deador.

“And zeir next round ist on me,” Deador said pushing a silver coin towards the barmaid and pointing towards the off-duty guards.

The sentries held up their mugs and said, “Salute, Graf!”

Noticing that the girl was still there waved his hand at her, but she stood her ground. He growled at her, baring his elongated canine teeth at her. She didn’t budge.

“I must be getting old, zat alvayed verked before,” Deador muttered under his breath.

“You know if you want, I can get some wildflowers, travelers such as yourself usually make tea or something yummy from them. Or would you prefer…other services?” she asked lowering her voice.

“Curious plot element revealed to the protagonist,” Uriel said. “But will his hopes be dashed upon the rocks of tragedy?”

His eyes began to glow bright red.

“Vat do you see?” Deador asked.

“This side character is cloaked in an orange light, and…strings of pale blue light are attached to her like a marionette,” replied Uriel.

The girl smiled back at them. Deador pulled out a few more copper coins and gingerly placed them on the table.

Deador pushed the coins towards her and said, “How aboud a nice conservation, doll?”

The girl snapped up the coins and sat down on the empty seat between them. Pulling out an hourglass from a pouch on her hip, she started the timer. Her pale blue eyes turned white.

“You have about ah three minutes of my time,” she said in a different tone.

“So you are a Gamsbin native? He asks wondering, not knowing,” Uriel questioned.

The girl answered back, “You paid two weeks wages ta’ ah flower girl...ta’ engage in pleasantries?”

“Right, I’ll get to ze poind. Uncle Stefvann vasn’t send to join his foul goddess Ceres and her ilk at the battle of Anglessey province,” Deador said.

The pushed back her dark hair and stuck her finger in her ear.

She wiggled it a few times and asked, “Ummm, can you clarify?”

“Here’s the hook, the main antagonist isn’t dead and is attempting to bring his sister, Bloody Bathery, back from the wings to center stage,” said Uriel.

“So it sounds ta’ me what you two are lookin’ ta’ cause trouble,” she said.

Deador and Uriel stared down at their drinks in silence.

“Well count us in!” she said excitedly.