Tsia held on another moment, squeezing him so tightly his ribs hurt, and Jasper patted her on the back awkwardly. “Glad you’re alright.” He glanced around the meadow, not wanting to ask the question, but he saw no sign of the scout. “And Erin? Did he, uh, not make it?”

She released him instantly and spun around with a cry of dismay. “Oh no. He didn’t get hurt, did he?”

“I don’t see him, is all,” Jasper replied hesitantly.

“He passed out after hurling the pillar,” the princess said distractedly, scanning the ruins of the tall grass for the scout.

“He’s the one who tore that pillar off its foundations?!” Jasper asked incredulously. “I assumed you had done that?”

“No, he did, but he pushed himself too far and he passed out from essence deprivation. I just hope one of them didn’t…step on him,” she added with a grimace. The three fanned out and began searching through the tall grass. Much of it had been mowed down by Tsia’s wind blades or the vicious trampling of the mighty beasts, but there were sections that were nearly untouched and it was in one of those where Jasper was relieved to the scout curled up in a ball.

Erin was unconscious, and his brow wreathed with sweat, but he was otherwise unharmed. After a few bursts of Circle of Forgiveness and greedily guzzling an entire flagon of water, the scout was back on his feet – albeit with a crushing headache.

It was only then that Jasper rounded on Tsia. “What you were thinking, coming here by yourselves? The two of you almost died.”

“How was I supposed to know that monsters had moved in,” she spluttered defensively, her fists balling up against her sides. “The manor was sealed up tight. It should have been empty.”

As much as Jasper wanted to disagree, he knew she had a point. While it had been foolish to disappear without telling them where she was going, given the available information, it hadn’t been that reckless – he’d certainly done worse.

He sighed deeply, releasing the bubble of anxiety and exasperation that had been roiling in his gut, and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m glad you’re both right,” he continued more calmly. “Next time, if you want to investigate somewhere, just tell me. I’m sure Ihra and I will be more than happy to help you. Even if you don’t want us to come,” he added, understanding that the girl might want to visit her mother’s place alone, “at least we’d know where to look for you.”

Her hands relaxed, and Tsia nodded her head. “Fine. I just…I thought we could be in and out before you finished with the guild. But then I couldn’t remember all the traps, and then there were those beasts,” she spoke the word with a grimace of disgust, “and it all went belly up.”

He nodded with understanding and turned his eye back to the building that encircled them. “What are you even looking for? If it’s not a secret, that is,” he added.

The princess shrugged. “I thought my mother might have left something. Plus…I guess I just wanted to see the place one last time. I used to love coming here. Getting away from the court and my stepmother’s constant intrigues,” she said bitterly. “This was the one place she couldn’t touch me, but with my mother gone and the war…” She trailed off, her lips twitching sadly before continuing. “This is probably the last time I’ll ever see it,” she finished.

Thoughts of home flashed through Jasper’s mind, and he understood. He didn’t exactly miss his apartment back home, and he’d never had a steady place in childhood, but he did miss Earth. He’d done a good job of sealing away the major things, of shoving them into a box in the farthest corners of his mind that he never, ever opened, but it was the little things that usually got him. The sudden craving for a bowl of ice cream. Remembering a show he’d never see again. The red leaves outside Gis̆-Izum that reminded him so of the fall spectacular. With a concerted effort, he slammed the door shut on the memories and, clearing his throat, flashed her a forced smile. “Well then, let’s make this the best last visit ever. I’ll be curious to see what this place is like without a bunch of elves escorting me around like a bunch of riff-raff from the street.”

“And this was the kitchen,” Tsia spun around to face them, as she led the group into the next room. Even without a tour guide, Jasper could have guessed the purpose of the room, but he was surprised by the sheer scale of the operation. The former kitchen was nearly a hundred feet in length and sturdy stone ovens occupied two full walls. Enormous stone tables dominated the center of the room where the maids had once prepared the food, but that was all that was that remained in the room – everything smaller had been carted off by the elves.

“How many did this place serve?” Ihra asked, voicing the question he’d been thinking.

Tsia hummed thoughtfully before responding. “I’m not too sure. Most of my mother’s people only lived in the enclave for a small portion of the year, and otherwise came and went. But when we had really big feasts, there must have been thousands of us.”

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She walked over to one of the massive tables and leaned against it. “Whenever I woke up in the night, I’d sneak down here. The maids would already be cooking breakfast, and they’d always have something set aside for me.” She smiled wistfully. “They made the best pastries I’ve ever had, full of cinnamon and butter and topped with the sweetest erimtu berries.” She fell into silence, her hand lingering on the table, until Jasper finally prodded her.

“Are there any more places you want to show us?”

She shook her head. “Just the two I’ve been avoiding, and I’d…I’d like to go by myself.”

“We’ll be waiting if you need us.”

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

Tsia left the three waiting in the kitchen and ascended the great spiral stairs that led up to the living chambers. She’d already taken through most of the hall, but she’d skipped two rooms – her mother’s and her own.

She started with her mother’s room, but it was wholly empty. The ornate bed and desk that had once filled the room was gone, with no trace of its existence left save for a few scratches on the otherwise pristine floor. Nothing else remained in the room other than the frescoes on the wall. She paused to examine them one last time, her eyes slightly watery as she gazed at the familiar scenes of her mother’s favorite story, the tale of Ayyālu’s lost love.

Her hand reached out to stroke the gilded stag, and she froze as she felt a presence brush past her, before disappearing once again. “Lord Ayyālu,” she whispered to herself and bowing her head, she recited a short cant of praise.

Then, after a final lingering glance, she shut the door and walked down the hall until she reached her old room. She hesitated outside the room, almost afraid to open it up. Tsia had truly believed her mother would leave something behind for her, but thus far she’d found nothing. This was her final chance and a small part of her wanted to walk away – preferring to nurture the hope that something was there over the finality of discovering nothing.

But she was no coward. Her hand wrapped around the door and she swung it open.

An immediate wave of relief hit her as she saw she’d guessed correctly. Most of her room had been packed up like the others. Her canopy bed, with its sumptuous silk sheets and thick down comforter, was long gone, as was her precious collection of books. Only a simple chair and desk remained, on which sat a small box and a folded letter.

She half-ran to the desk, and sinking into the chair, shoved the box aside and picked up the letter. Her hands shook as she broke the wax seal and unfolded the parchment.

My little sapling,

I have no doubt that sooner or later you will find this letter and I hope you have not encountered much trouble along the way. Now that I am gone, I fear the gerrabnu will turn this place into their den; the troublesome beasts always were able to sneak through our seals somehow.

Did you follow my wish in the last letter? Despite my many requests, the edekkû refuse to show me if you will join Jasper on his journey or go your own way, but as before, they promise that if you follow him, he shall lead you to me.

With that hope, I stand firm in the belief that this is not a goodbye, and I have taken with me all your possessions so that when you find me, your room will be waiting and ready.

But I have left one thing behind, the gift I planned to give you on your 18th. Of all the many expeditions I took to Als̆arratu, this was the only artifact of my mother’s that I was able to retrieve. May it be yours and your daughter's as it was mine.

Setting the letter aside, Tsia grabbed the box and pulled it closer. She hesitated a moment before her curiosity won out, and she tore the lid open.

Inside sat a single bracer. Made of platinum, the bracer looked more like a piece of jewelry, beset with numerous deep blue sapphires and delicate scrollwork that revealed much of the arm below. The bracer was not alone, though. Instead, it was held in the grasp of a small platinum statue of Ayyālu. The statue felt warm to the touch as she lifted out of the box and set it on the table, and Tsia could swear she saw light glint in its ruby eyes. An accompanying note tumbled out, and she picked it up.

This was one of the most prized possessions our ancestors brought when they left Onkodos Laos. The bracer was once part of a set that provided both an offensive attack and a powerful shield, but sadly only the shield remains. While you have the Bracer of Sardû, Ayyālu’s blessing rests upon you, protecting you from most elemental attacks. It does not require any essence of yours to maintain, nothing save for a heart of honest devotion.

The true blessing of Sardû, however, is one I hope you never need. For each devotee that bears the bracer, Ayyālu guarantees a single resurrection. Wear it every day, little sapling, and pray each night to the Great Stag, that it may bring you safely to me.

Tears stained the desk as Tsia mounted the bracer on her arm. It was a bit too big at first, but the bracer adjusted on its own to her size, tightening around her muscles. Then she bowed her head to the statue, offering another prayer to Lord Ayyālu, before placing that in her bag.

She dried her eyes and took one last look around the room, but there was nothing more. Then she descended the stairs.

When Tsia reappeared, the red puffiness of her eyes betrayed what she’d been doing, but Jasper didn’t point it out. “Did you find what you’re looking for?” He asked gently, and the girl nodded.

“More than I expected.” She didn’t seem keen to share, but it was hard not to notice the new piece of jewelry adorning her arm. It was a bit flashy, and he worried for a moment about thieves trying to take it until he realized how silly that was. Anyone stupid enough to try to steal from Tsia would likely lose their arm, if not their lives.

“So, are you ready to go?”

Tsia nodded distractedly, running a gentle finger down the delicate bracer. “Yeah, I’m good. And…” she dragged the word out for a moment before continuing. “Thanks. For coming, and for not asking about it.”

“No problem.”